


Ricochet

by Lilly_Valens



Category: Cold Case
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe, Angst, Brotherhood, Drama, Episode Related, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Homosexuality, Police, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slash, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-06 23:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 46
Words: 177,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilly_Valens/pseuds/Lilly_Valens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two sudden gunshots and all Jimmy and Coop built together shatters away into a balmy summer night. Or does this mark the start of a new journey when all the pieces are reassembled? AU slash Jimmy/Coop fic based on "Forever Blue" and combined with aspects of "A Time to Hate." Rated for language, violence, and mature themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Lucky Ones Split Apart

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Spoilers if you haven't seen the episodes "A Time to Hate" or "Forever Blue". This is a (canon) slash fanfic that will contain violence, mature themes, and coarse language. Please keep in mind the homophobic language is only in keeping with the context of when the episodes took place.
> 
> Canon alteration: Above two episodes are combined, so AU. I also adjusted the "Forever Blue" timeline so that all the events of the episode take place in June/July 1968.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my original characters.

**Saturday, July 27, 1968. Daytime.**

"Normal" was exactly how the day had begun.

Doing double shifts was a regular occurrence for the officers of 5th District of the Philadelphia Police Department. Even though a massive recruitment process was underway, the force as a whole continued to lack adequate manpower. So, having a wife and three kids to support, patrolman Jimmy Bruno had readily volunteered earlier in the week to do an extra twelve hours that day, to help train a couple of rookies and patrol North Philadelphia.

After five years on the force, he had come to know the filthy alleyways of North Philly better than his own neighbourhood. He just knew a busy shift awaited him; a broiling day with a cool night to it almost always guaranteed trouble.

* * *

 _T_ he first call had been a domestic one. After several noise complaints, Jimmy and rookie Joseph Malone had driven over to a rundown apartment block in Fishtown. The slight breeze from the nearby river did nothing to ease the stagnant air.

Swiftly, they barged into the apartment building and raced up to the third floor. They sweated profusely as they followed the loud shouts coming from apartment 314.

Malone gave the battered door a timid knock. "Open up."

"Christ, ya gotta be louder than that!" Jimmy hissed, giving the door a heavy thud. "Police! Open up!"

The arguing on the other side of the wall ceased as china smashed to the floor. Hesitant footsteps began to pad up to the door. _  
_

* * *

After calming the couple down, the officers had directed the couple to the kitchen table, where the husband and wife glowered at each other from opposite ends.

For several minutes, the couple continued to mutter amongst themselves, but the officers at last found out what had caused the arguing - the wife had flown into a rage against her husband because he had popped her inflatable bath pillow with a fork.

The husband, his fat belly poking out under a too-small muscle shirt, was unapologetic. "She's spendin' more time with that god-damned pillow than me!" he bellowed, running a hand through his tangled, greasy hair.

"Of course! It's better company!" the wife spat, metal curlers still in her hair.

With a smile trying to tug at his lips, Jimmy barked at the couple to shut up.

The couple fell into a stunned silence. A soft spoken man with fine features, Jimmy hadn't given the impression of being an intimidating force. He hid a smile. He had learned early on in his policing career that sudden, unexpected displays of emotion were his greatest weapon in gaining control of volatile situations.

Wanting to get away from the boiling apartment that smelt of rotting cabbage, he racked his brain for a solution to the couple's dilemma, something that should have been easy for him after ten years of rocky marriage. In the end,he suggested to the husband that he buy a new pillow to show his wife how much he valued and missed her company.

Once they were certain things would be under control, Jimmy and Malone sprinted out of the apartment building. It was a relief to have cool air blowing through the open windows onto them as Malone sought to impress Jimmy with his driving skills.

* * *

The first eight hours at their end, Jimmy dropped Malone back off at the stationhouse. Captain Alfred Stinson had thought it best for the rookie to take a breather before beginning the night shift of his packed training schedule.

Jimmy then embarked on his next eight-hour training session, which quickly turned into a comedy of errors. While Malone seemed a promising officer, Alphonse Bon Boivin was clueless. In the car he couldn't even figure out how to operate the patrol car's radio properly. Right there, Jimmy began to have serious doubts about his charge's future on the force. But the officer was a patient man and willing to give the stammering rookie a chance to prove himself.

But Jimmy's reservations were soon proven true. Towards the end of the shift, the pair had begun to drive back to the station after breaking up a bar brawl. But they never got there. Bon Boivin crashed their patrol car into a fountain after forgetting to turn. While both men were fine, except for some soaked feet, the car was a write-off. Jimmy's boss, Lieutenant Tom McCree had fired Bon Boivin on the spot. Short-staffed as they were, there was only so much quality in the caliber of recruits that could be compromised.

* * *

**July 27, 1968. Late evening.**

Jimmy's piercing blue eyes swept the parking lot. _Man, what a boring day._ He viewed the past hours of his day as a mere distraction; the best part of his shift had not yet begun. Nothing could compete with going out on patrol together for eight hours with his partner, Sean "Coop" Cooper. Coop normally did twelve hour shifts like the rest of the guys, but had somehow talked the Captain into letting him attend the wedding of a fellow Vietnam veteran. Jimmy hated the time he had missed with his partner. Their shifts were always exciting. His partner seemed to attract troublemakers and drug dealers with little effort. Even if it meant busting a few shins now and then, it couldn't be denied that Coop's cowboy methods were successful. In the year they had been together, their team had had more busts and convictions than any other in the precinct. In fact, theirs was such an effective partnership that they had earned themselves the nickname of the "Dynamic Duo."

Jimmy knew the nickname incensed his partner; many a night spent drinking together had revolved around Coop's rants about how Batman was ridiculing and eroding the public's respect for law enforcement. But Jimmy knew Coop was secretly proud that his efforts were being noticed. People thought his friend was incapable of planning anything beyond boozing or picking up women, but he had come to learn otherwise. His partner had many plans for the future and he often discussed them with Jimmy as they drove around North Philly looking for trouble. Coop was pretty deep for all his reputation as the cowboy type.

_But that's not really just the half of it; there's so much more to Coop than what he lets people see._

Having a free hour thanks to Bon Boivin's incompetence, Jimmy tried to think just what it was that made him love their partnership when it suddenly came to him with a flash. _That's it. It's the conversations. That we can talk about anything. Even the conversations about us being the lucky ones are okay... sometimes._

For the past six weeks, he had tried to make sense of what had developed between him and his partner. After many sleepless nights, he managed to arrive at some semblance of peace about it, but the guilt of violating his marriage vows and the teachings of the Catholic Church continued to gnaw at his insides like a small, wild animal. However, he couldn't deny that he and Coop shared a passion that he had never experienced with his wife, Eileen. Things were now at a point where he felt no day was worthwhile if he hadn't spent some part of it with his partner.

But for the past several weeks, outside of work, it had been difficult to spend time alone with Coop. The guys had had to put in lots of overtime and his wife would get upset whenever he tried to make plans that didn't involve her. At the other end of the spectrum, Coop had kept insisting that he and Jimmy only hang at his place. Some days, Jimmy worried that his body would be torn in half by the two forces fighting for a piece of him.

Still, Jimmy had tried to put everything into perspective. He and Eileen had a newborn in the house for the first time in years. Babies always altered the dynamics of any relationship and he had figured it would take them all time to settle into the new state of affairs.

* * *

Hanging around in the staff parking lot, Jimmy sweated in the stagnant air. The heat wave pounding down on Philly was oppressive. Though the sun had dipped out of sight, no cool refuge had come with it. Hereached into his pocket and pulled a handkerchief to wipe the perspiration off his brow when he heard a distinctive horn.

He felt his heart speed up a few beats as Coop pulled up in his red 1955 T-Bird, smoke screeching from below the tires as he took a sharp turn into the car park. A veteran of the raging Vietnam War, Coop had been one of many returning soldiers enticed into police training by financial incentives. Having never had a car of his own before, the T-Bird Coop had longed for as a teenager had become his early Academy graduation present to himself. He would tool with the car's engine whenever he had the chance, always looking for ways to go faster on the country roads he liked to race along on days off.

As their relationship had continued to blossom, it had difficult for Jimmy to conceal from the other officers the nervous energy that coursed through him when he glanced at his partner. With his dirty blond hair, deep blue eyes, and high cheekbones, Coop had always struck Jimmy as the archetype of the Hollywood cowboy. But none of the guys could have suspected they harboured feelings beyond the brotherly partner bond as Jimmy broke into a broad smile and headed over towards his friend's car.

Coop emerged from the car still dressed in the suit he had worn to the wedding. As usual, his unruly hair was subdued with copious amounts of hair oil.

Playfully, Jimmy punched his partner's shoulder. "So," he asked, "was the wedding more fun than bustin' shins?"

Coop grinned. "Well, there were some hot chicks. And the booze wasn't half-bad, either. But nah, the whole thing was sorta boring. The goddamn speeches went on forever. Enforcing the law is so much more fun." _And nothing beats being with you, Jimmy._

"Glad you think so. Today's been something, that's all I can say!" the older man declared, leaning against the car and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah? Shoot."

"Hey, I didn't mean now!" Jimmy sputtered, straightening up. "I meant once we're driving. You start in fifteen minutes and you still ain't changed. McCree's gonna be pissed if you're late even one minute."

"Another scumbag you're afraid of, huh?"

"No." Jimmy sighed, letting his gaze shift away from his partner. "I just don't want us getting in any more hot water. McCree's still pissed about that whole thing with Teddy Burke."

Coop flashed a cocky grin. "I don't give a damn what McCree thinks of me. Besides, he's got better things to do with his dirty money than think about me, anyways."

Jimmy ignored the crack about dirty money. "Look, just get changed, alright? It's Saturday night. I got a feeling it ain't gonna be a quiet one," he replied, his brow furrowing.

Seeming to know he had crossed a line, Coop gave his partner a sharp salute, as he strolled into stationhouse and chuckled to himself. _Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. Always worrying about nothing!_

Jimmy bit his tongue as the other man disappeared from view. _That stubborn prick will never let the money thing slide. Even when he knows money's tight with a new baby._

Twelve minutes later, Jimmy chatted with some other officers as he waited for his partner to re-materialize.

At last, Coop strolled into the parking lot at exactly ten PM. A small smirk crossed his face.

Jimmy knew his friend was elated that he had ticked off their boss by arriving right on time. McCree was always miserable when he didn't have someone to pick on. But it made him uneasy that his partner kept risking his job just to make a point. Yes, Coop had the advantage of his father being a high ranking inspector in the main office downtown, but it was still a game of Russian Roulette Jimmy wished his partner would quit playing.

"Hey, Coop!" Jimmy yelled. "Go get the car ready!"

"Sure!"

Coop walked over to the car and set up the radio as was normal protocol. When he finished, he walked over to the front of the patrol car and rested against the hood. _Christ. Would you quit your yakking and get your ass over here already?!_

Sensing his friend's limited patience beginning to erode, Jimmy began to make his way to the patrol car. He stopped when he noticed McCree approach his partner. He winced, sure Coop was about to be told off about something.

 _Fuck! What does the bastard want now?_ Coop immediately straightened up to his full height, his face all duty and honour. "One good thing that came out of boot camp was learning a good poker face," Coop had told Jimmy one time. "Now I can make them think I'm listening when I'm really a million miles away."

Jimmy was surprised when their lieutenant only put his hands on his hips and ordered, "You two stick close in North Philly tonight. We've been getting armed robbery calls from under the bridge." _Oh, yay_ , Jimmy thought. _The bridge on Diamond Street is a hotbed for drug activity. This is going to be a fun night._

 _Wow, McCree's in a great mood tonight!_ The younger man dropped his military stance. He smiled and swung an arm underhand in excitement. "Send in the bad guys!"

Chuckling, McCree said he'd try to scare some up for him before turning away and tapping Coop on the chest in a rare show of camaraderie.

Jimmy's mouth went dry. _Weird. McCree_ always _tells Coop off for wiseass remarks. He must have finally gotten some of that LSD._

Not seeming as mystified as his friend, Coop shrugged. He went over to the driver side of patrol car D108 and leaned against the door. _Come on Jimmy, get your ass over here!_

Then it happened.

Their fellow officer, Owen Murphy, was also in the parking lot, but had largely avoided Jimmy and Coop the past few weeks. Jimmy figured Murphy was still sore at Coop for the "fairy boy" remark that had humiliated him in front of the whole locker room. At the time, Jimmy was terrified Coop had exposed their secret. But when the encounter ended with Murphy storming away, he had tried to forget what had happened.

That conception shattered as Murphy walked by Jimmy and taunted, "Keep an eye on those bathhouses, Jimmy."

His thoughts began racing. _Shit! Murphy knows! How the hell does he know?_

In a split second, all of Jimmy's priorities changed. He had to get away from his partner. If he got into that car, the whole world was going to know what he was. That couldn't happen. The secret he had been hiding for almost half of his life couldn't be exposed. _God, if anyone else finds out, it's the end! For both of us!  
_

His face hardening, Jimmy walked over Coop. He froze in place and gave the other man a cold stare.

Coop tried to figure out what the hell his his partner was doing. "You gettin' in or what?!"

Trying to maintain his composure, Jimmy turned his head. He licked his lips and thought fast. "I think I'm going to take out a rookie." He almost sighed with relief. The rookie excuse was believable. Coop knew how short-staffed the precinct was.

Coop just laughed.

Jimmy didn't budge.

"You serious?" the blond asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah."

Coop gave Jimmy a surprised look. But since he was never one to let a little change in routine deter him, he just smiled and said, "I'll pick up some beer and meet you at my place after, then," said, turning away to get into the patrol car.

 _Shit!_ A confrontation Jimmy never thought he would have to have was now unfolding like a dry tinder set ablaze by a mere spark. He gritted his teeth and said, "I can't make it over to your place later."

Coop spun on his heel, and Jimmy didn't blame him. They had been planning their poker game all week.

"Why not?" Coop demanded, giving his partner a hard look.

Jimmy tucked his thumbs into his belt and rocked on his feet. "Maybe it's time for a change," he said softly. He stiffened to keep himself from falling to the concrete below his feet.

"What kind of change?"

Swallowing, Jimmy didn't say anything for a moment. He knew he had to look his friend square in the eye. "I wasn't thinking right when we talked the other weekend. And I haven't been right for a long time."

"What's going on, Jimmy?"

Unable to stand those eyes boring through him like blue fire, he twisted his head away. "I ain't going to be making it over to your place no more," he said bluntly.

Coop lowered his head in astonishment.

Feeling relief that those searching eyes were no longer on his face, Jimmy didn't hesitate as he said, "You should get a new partner." He winced, sure he was about to be decked with one swift punch.

Instead, when Coop looked up, his glare began to soften. "You afraid?" he asked in a low voice.

 _Afraid?! More like fucking terrified!_ "It's got nothing to do with that."

"I'm afraid, too," Coop whispered.

 _But you ain't afraid of anything, Coop..._ "Look, I gotta get going," Jimmy said tersely, beginning to walk away.

"Jimmy, don't go. Please," he pleaded.

Jimmy turned around. _What the hell am I doing? God, Coop. Quit looking at me like that. Please._

In a ragged voice, he reminded Jimmy, "We're the lucky ones, remember?"

Jimmy saw red. _You fucking idiot! How the hell is this curse lucky?_ he ground his teeth. "I think you got it wrong there," he hissed. "I _ain't_ a queer!"

He then turned around and began to walk away from his now ex-partner. But he kept his pace slow as he waited. Waited for Coop to quietly call him back.

But Coop didn't say a word. Instead, Jimmy he a car door slam and tires screeching.

Good God, what had he done? Spinning around, hoping to catch his partner, Jimmy shouted, "Coop!"

But it was no use. Coop and patrol car D108 roared out of the parking lot and took a right.

He stood motionless and felt a part of himself die. He wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and shut out the world. But he knew he couldn't vanish from the hell he had just created for himself and Coop; police business still awaited.


	2. A Transformation

In a daze, Jimmy watched Coop's patrol car until it disappeared into the night.

Trying to catapult away all thoughts of Coop, Jimmy looked around for a rookie to take with him on patrol. Spotting one leaning against one of the patrol cars, Jimmy yelled, "Malone, get your ass over here! You're coming out with me tonight. McCree wants us to keep a close patrol on North Philly."

Straightening up, Malone eyed Jimmy as he walked over. "McCree told me earlier to wait around for Murphy. Besides, aren't you supposed to be out on patrol with Cooper tonight?"

At the mention of Coop, Jimmy winced as if he had been slapped. He clenched his teeth and glared at the kid who asked too many questions. "There's been a change of plans. I'm training you tonight, so get your ass into gear!" the older man snapped.

Malone stepped back, puzzled at the splintering of Jimmy's easygoing exterior. Then he shrugged. Working a long shift was bound to make anyone grouchy. "Sure, Bruno, I'm patrol car D612. Let's go get the bad guys!"

Jimmy got into the car and said nothing, wondering where Malone had managed to pick up one of Coop's favourite phrases.

Slamming his door shut, Malone switched the car into gear and drove swiftly out of the parking lot, taking a sharp left that briefly jolted Jimmy out of his stupor.

Rolling his window down out of habit, Jimmy told Malone to keep close to the bridge around Diamond Street. Whatever hornet's nest he had stirred up tonight with Coop and Murphy, he was not risking his job any further by disobeying McCree's orders.

The two men drove in silence and Jimmy made the pretense of looking hard out the passenger window for trouble. But his mind had long since taken flight from the streets of Philadelphia.

Wiping perspiration off his forehead and through his golden hair, Malone sensed something amiss when he spotted Jimmy picking at the skin of his thumb with his forefinger. But the kid left the silent man alone and shifted his gaze back to the windshield.

* * *

After speeding away from the parking lot, Coop drove aimlessly around North Philly and onto North Front Street, hoping to spot some action that would take him away from his churning thoughts. But it was no use; though he blinked rapidly, his vision still blurred from the tears he tried to suppress. Swallowing hard and realizing he was only a block away from the Diamond Street bridge, Coop spotted a free space along the the road and pulled into it.

Coop kept the car running, knowing he had to be ready for any possible dispatches. He rolled up his windows, though the night remained blistering hot. Now completely alone, he crossed his hands over the steering wheel, and, resting his hands on it, he gave into the tears he had been blinking back and let them stream down his cheeks. Though bitter sobs tried to escape out his mouth, Coop gulped them back, his broad shoulders shuddering.

He couldn't understand it. For the first time ever, he was at long last feeling something for someone beyond mere lust. He was finally ready to risk everything for the happiness he had long denied himself. He had never been surer of anything in his life, and he had been convinced Jimmy felt the same way.

As his tears began to ease, Coop lifted his head and began to wipe his eyes and nose with the handkerchief he had flung onto the passenger seat beside him. The car was scorching, but he didn't notice as he tried to grapple with the turmoil Jimmy had thrust him into. His internal chaos was hardly a new state of affairs; though he and Jimmy had only begun this whole thing six weeks before, Coop's old life had eroded away.

For the past three weeks, Coop had tried hard to convince himself that his father was nothing but an ignorant bastard who had never shown true affection for him. But it had been useless; Jimmy was the only thing that had prevented him from falling apart . Now that he truly had nothing left, Coop wondered if the confrontation he had had with his father at St. Anthony's Catholic Church only three weeks before had been for nothing.

* * *

_It was after the christening of Tommy, Jimmy's new son. Coop had wandered away from the rest of the crowd to the area of the church where the side altar was kept. Though he had rarely attended church since graduating from high school, Coop still found the small space that smelt of burning incense peaceful. He knew he would have a hell of a time trying to find his car now, so he leaned against the wooden wall and looked down at his feet as he waited for the crowd to thin out. He couldn't wait to get to Jimmy's. Though there would be a least fifty people in the house, Coop still nursed the futile hope that he and Jimmy could have a bit of time alone.  
_

_Heavy footsteps dragged Coop away from his thoughts. He looked up and was surprised to see his father, Inspector Brogan "Sarge" Cooper. Though he had been promoted from Sergeant years prior, the old nickname still stuck.  
_

_Sighing, Coop was sure Sarge was about to blast him for being late to the baptism. He wondered why the man couldn't have left it for tonight, when he was due to have Sunday dinner with his parents after the reception at the Brunos'._

_Instead, Sarge chuckled at his son. Coop still felt uneasy and began scuffing one shoe against the red carpet._

_Twirling his police cap in his left hand, Sarge grinned at as he said, "You won't believe the load of crap that Owen Murphy just told me," gesturing towards the main altar with his thumb._

_Knowing that Murphy regularly told tall tales, Coop was interested to hear what latest Superman antic had just happened. "Yeah?" Coop inquired._

_"Yeah." Sarge glanced down and rubbed his nose. "He said that you and Jimmy are uh-," Sarge paused.  
_

_Coop crammed his hands deeper into his pockets. This didn't have the normal hallmarks of a Murphy fairy tale. And as Sarge continued to stand without speaking, Coop felt his heart begin to race and he drew his eyes towards the floor._

_After a few moments of silence, Sarge finally said, "Aw, forget it, it's not worth discussing."  
_

_"Sure," Coop said, raising his eyes, but not looking at his father. A terrible foreboding began to stir within him. After twelve long years, Coop sensed his father was finally going to realize his son's playboy lifestyle was nothing but a farce.  
_

_"He's crazy, right son?" Sarge asked in a low voice._

_Coop knew he should just say, "Right," and slap his father on the back whilst declaring that Murphy's delusions were a cover for his own latent homosexual desires._ But it just ain't right, this lying and hiding. I can't do it anymore! _he thought desperately._

_Flicking the light switch of his mind, Coop turned off his fear. He stared at his father head on with steel-blue eyes. "You really want to talk about this, Pop?"_

_Sarge gaped at Coop in shock before glancing over his shoulder. He swallowed and returned his son's cold gaze. "You need to find a new partner."_

_Coop looked up, almost laughing inside at his father's simplistic remedy. "Jimmy's good."_

_Sarge glowered at Coop as he spat, "Jimmy Bruno is a sick, disgusting son of a bitch!"_

_Coop clenched the inside of his pockets to keep himself from punching his father square in the jaw. "No he's not!" he growled in a low voice._

_"You were led astray," said Sarge, refusing to back down._

_Coop shook his head vehemently. "No one leads me. You of all people know that, Pop._ You really don't know a damn thing about me, Pop. Do you?

_Sarge's gaze wavered. "You're my son. You can't be…you can't be uh…," his voice trailing off._

_Coop eased his gaze._ God, Pop. You think I wanted to tell you about this?

_Sarge sniffed. The moment spent away from his son's eyes restored some of his fire. He glowered at Coop and declared, "We raised you right!"_

_"It has nothing to do with you," said Coop, sighing._ Don't start the God damn blame game, Pop.

_"You are not going to disgrace our family, the force!" Sarge whispered fiercely.  
_

_Coop tried to escape Sarge's glare, but he felt like a deer caught in headlights. "Quit looking at me like that, Pop. Please?"_

_Sarge didn't soften. "I thought you were a man."_

_"I am," Coop said, his voice wavering as his determination sank and fear began to flood into its place._

_Sarge had shook his head. "No you're not. And you're not my son neither!" before he had turned and walked away, washing his hands of his flesh and blood.  
_

* * *

Coop snapped out of his memories as he heard his radio crackle something about a drug dealer in Fishtown. Sweat ran down his face, back, and chest like a faucet and he could feel his hair oil joining the river. The confrontation with his father was the last thing he had wanted to think about. He had done his best to bury it into his subconscious, but the lid over the boiling pot kept erupting. Still, Coop had so far managed to avoid discussing it with Jimmy; his partner was nervous enough over their fling as it was that Coop knew Jimmy wasn't ready for a test of this calibre.

Coop rolled down his windows and was relieved to be greeted by a blast of cool air. The tears had ceased, but his stomach still churned so hard it made him sick. _God, Danny, I wish you could come over for a beer when this shift ends; you'd know just what to do._ Then Coop let out a ragged sigh. _When are you going to realize that Danny's been dead for four years and doesn't hear a damned thing you say to him?_

He clenched his jaw hard. God, he had given into the ultimate weakness: his emotions. _Maybe Pop's right; maybe I just am a pansy-ass fairy queen._

Then Coop glowered at himself in the rear-view mirror. _What does Pop know about me at all? Not a damned thing!  
_

His jaw aching, Coop felt a chilling calm come over him as he turned off his racing emotions. _The best lesson Vietnam ever taught me: don't let shit affect you. Even if it's a dead body or a friend lost, it means nothing._ The change was swift as Coop transformed back into a cool, efficient police officer. _People may think duty and honour are a thing of the past, but the world still needs a guy like me. Jimmy and Pop can rot in Hell!_

Coop stared out into the pitch black night. Whatever trouble was coming his way, he would take care of it. He just wished his father and Jimmy could see him now.


	3. Straightening What He Have Made Crooked

Though the Philadelphia Police Department's radio room was chilly, Sarge had taken off his blue dress jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his starched, pressed white shirt. His whitening blond hair was soaked and his hands fumbled as he tried to smooth his hair back into place. Satisfied he looked presentable, he claimed the workstation furthest away from the other officers, who bitching about working on a Saturday night.

Leaning back in his seat, he tried to focus on the incoming dispatches, but July 7, 1968 kept looping itself through his mind like a broken record.

* * *

_While some parishioners had stayed behind to talk to Father Simon "Mack" MacKintosh, most of the crowd had begun to disperse after Tommy's christening. After a long service, many were ecstatic to escape the hot church for cold drinks and appetizers at the Bruno household._

_Knowing the narrow street in front of the church would be gridlocked, Sarge decided to stay on a bit and wait for the priest to be free. With baseball season well underway, he was was eager to talk about the Phillies' winning streak with a fellow fan. In past years, he'd have discussed the team's play with his son. A gifted pitcher, Coop had played college baseball for Pennsylvania State University, and Sarge had nursed dreams a professional career would be the result.  
_

_However, following his 1964 graduation from Penn, his son had quit baseball entirely. His stunned parents had never gotten much of answer as to why. Coop had delivered his bombshell the day after Christmas and had refused any subsequent discussion. Though Sarge had ranted and raved for a good month about his disappointment and broken dreams, his equally stubborn son simply grabbed the first job he was offered and moved out to his own apartment. If not for his son being drafted into the army soon after, it wouldn't have been a stretch to say it would have taken at least a year for father and son to once again be on speaking terms. Even now, baseball was a topic never discussed.  
_

_Thus, though Father Mack paled in comparison to the passion father and son had shared, it was better than nothing. As the priest remained occupied by an elderly couple prattling on about the brilliant sermon he had delivered the previous Sunday, Sarge shifted with impatience on a hard front pew. About to give up on the other man ever winning his freedom, he groaned when he saw Murphy notice him and stride over towards his pew. He hoped Murphy was also just waiting to chat with Father Mack, but his hopes were quickly dashed when Murphy seated himself beside Sarge and asked if he could discuss something with him._

_"Alright," said Sarge, though he longed to say, "Sure, when Hell freezes over." He felt guilty, since he considered Murphy to be a good man and model police officer. But the man was still a whiny embellisher, and that drove him crazy.  
_

_Seemingly clueless of any hostility his superior felt for him, Murphy was subdued instead of loud and cocky. "Sir, there's something I need to talk to you about. It's about Coop."_

_Sarge rolled his eyes. "Look Murphy, if this is about what Coop said to you in the locker room at the station, I've already told you to let it go. You know my son has a short fuse, and from what I heard from the other guys, you started the bloody thing. If you'd compared me to a wimp like Batman, you woulda got a lot worse than being called a fairy!"_

_Murphy lowered his head, but then his pale blue eyes bored through the other man. "It ain't about that. It's Jimmy and Coop I want to talk to you about. I need to tell you about something they're doing."_

_Sarge groaned. "It's Sunday, Murphy. My one day of rest. Can't this wait?"  
_

_Murphy turned red and shook his head. "No, Sarge. I think it best you know about Jimmy and Coop's queer thing now so you can sort it out."  
_

_Sarge went numb. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, Murphy?"_

_Murphy glanced around, before saying in a shaky voice, "Well, you see, a couple days ago, I was sorta hanging around in my patrol car, when I heard Jimmy and Coop talking. It went like this..."_

_At the end of Murphy's tale, Sarge sat motionless._

_"See, sir, this couldn't wait. What Coop and Jimmy are doing is disgusting. I woulda said something right then and there, Sarge, but you're the only person Coop ever listens to. So, I figured if I told you, you could sort him out."_

_All thoughts of baseball were forgotten. "Thanks for telling me, Murphy. I'll take care of it. Now get the hell out of here."_

_"Yes, sir." For once, Murphy did what he was told without protest._

_Sarge had sat in stunned disbelief for a few moments before he rose, knowing he had to find his son. He knew Murphy had just fed him a pack of lies, but he had to hear the denial from his son's own mouth. Nothing else would suffice.  
_

* * *

Now, three weeks on, Sarge still hoped his son's confession was a nightmare. He had tried to speak to Coop since their encounter at the church, but the one time he had managed to corner his son at the police station his son had spat in his face before walking away. That had been when he had realized some evil force had invaded his son, bending him away from the values that Sarge had instilled in him. He had known then that he was going to need help to straighten out God's handiwork.

* * *

_McCree had been furious when Sarge had informed him of the situation. "God, you'd better be shitting me!"_

_Sarge shifted in his desk chair. "I wish I was, Tom. Coop told me this from his own mouth. And my son is no liar."_

_McCree looked at the other man in bewilderment. "Christ_ _. You call a queer your son? You must be as screwed up in the head as he is!"_

_Sarge leapt to his feet and grabbed McCree by the front of his shirt. "You listen to me! My son is not going to be one of those! Something has led him and Jimmy astray and you're gonna help me fix this! Eileen's a good woman and doesn't deserve this!"_

_"Get off me!" McCree pushed back so hard that Sarge skidded backwards and crashed to the floor. "I am not having those types on my force! Your son and Bruno are history! We have standards on this force that are gonna be upheld!"_

_"Dammit all, that's what I'm asking you to do!" Sarge yelled as he stood up, dusting off his jacket. "A cop's reputation is all he has and I can't let my son destroy all we've worked for! Do whatever you want with Coop and Jimmy! Scare them, rough them up, I don't care! Whatever you think will fix this. And let me tell you something, Tom: if you don't take care of this, you will find yourself booted out of this force!"_

_The veins bulged in McCree's neck and forehead. "If you even try to do that, I swear to God I'll kill you!" McCree bellowed as he slammed a hand on Sarge's desk._

_Sarge jumped, but kept his tone even. "Tom, you will help me with this. And if you try to tell anyone else about this I promise to make your life on this force a living hell."_

_Though McCree's eyes still blazed, he answered calmly enough. "Sure, Sarge, whatever you say. I'll straighten them out. But, you'll have to work with me for that to happen."  
_

_Relief surged through Sarge. He leaned on the back of his chair. "Alright. What do you need me to do?"_

_McCree had looked casual. "Oh, Nothing major. I'll need you to be in the radio room at Headquarters next Saturday night. Coop and Jimmy will be on patrol then. I want you to send a dispatch to send them to the bridge on Diamond Street. I'm not sure what time yet, but I'll order them to stick close to the area. Don't worry Sarge, we'll sort these boys out. A lieutenant's job is upholding discipline, and I can assure you I am not a weak lieutenant."_

* * *

Now, Sarge shifted back and forth on the creaky wooden chair as he saw his watch strike 10:55 pm. It was time.

"We need a unit at the East End and Diamond. Report of a robbery suspect last seen on foot."

As the words escaped from his lips, Sarge he the St. Michael's medal he wore around his neck and silently prayed that his lost Michael would help his big brother see sense.


	4. Officer Down

Coop's radio crackled, "We need a unit at the East End and Diamond. Report of a robbery suspect last seen on foot."

Lurching to life, he gripped his walkie-talkie as he took the car out of park and began to speed towards the Diamond Street bridge. "Cooper responding. And I'm a block away."

His body tensed with excitement, his torment shelved. _That fucking bastard's gonna be sorry when I catch up with him!  
_

As Coop's voice faded into the balmy air, Malone and Jimmy also began to make their way to the bridge.

Guilt seeped through Jimmy's  pores and glistened on his forehead. His friend was headed into a dangerous situation alone, all because he was nothing but a fucking coward. _God, please let us get to the bridge before Coop. Please, Lord, I'm begging you._

Near the bridge, McCree leaned against a concrete pillar as he pulled his gun out of his jacket, feeling the warm blue-black steel burn through his leather gloves. In the patrol car he had parked a block away, McCree had loaded his rifle with trepidation. He was confident the four bullets in the magazine would deliver the justice sick men like Coop and Jimmy deserved.

As he had run up the street to his vantage point, his green eyes flashed and a cold, hard smile had spread across his face. As he had practiced shooting his gun at the range the past week, McCree had felt more and more confident on his decided plan of action. _Sure, I'll give Cooper and Jimmy a bit of a scare. That's all they're going to have time to feel!_

McCree's mouth grimaced as he recalled Sarge's pleading words when they had finalized their plans the previous day: "Just a little scare that'll make them stop what they're doing, Tom. That's all I want you to do." McCree sighed. That was the problem with men like Coop's father making it to high positions in the police force; they lacked the will necessary to enforce the discipline needed to rid the police of undesirables. It was little wonder that the force was beginning to contain these freaks of nature.

_Well, tonight's gonna help change that._

Hearing tires rumbling over the debris created by nearby construction, McCree darted behind the pillar. He had to be certain he wouldn't be seen easily. If he knew Coop well enough, the impulsive officer would take no more than a momentary glance of his surroundings and would be a sitting duck.

Coop stopped the car when he got to the end of the bridge and put the car into park. Protocol dictated that he look around the area carefully, to wait for back-up in case the robbery suspect was armed. But caution was the last thing on his mind. A robbery suspect running loose had very little to lose and needed to be apprehended as soon as possible.

He reached to open his door, but noticed his gunbelt loosening . Cursing under his breath, Coop began to play with the belt's buckle.

Creeping out from behind the pillar, McCree saw the other officer, but was caught momentarily off guard at Jimmy's absence. _Doesn't matter._ As soon as he had a clear shot, he squeezed the trigger.

Flash!

Bang!

Smash!

Rip!

"Ugh!" Coop was jerked to the right as the shot entered below his right shoulder, shattered glass from the windshield scratching his face. Warm liquid ran down his chest and his shoulder screamed in pain as he tried to get his gun out of its holster.

McCree ran a few feet, aimed for the left side of Coop's chest, and again pulled the trigger.

Flash!

Bang!

Smash!

Rip!

A second bullet smashed through the windshield and hit Coop square below his left pectoral. More glass rained down on him and he coughed to clear the blood trickling up his throat.

Satisfied the man was mortally wounded, McCree tossed a yellow brick of heroin through the open passenger window. Racing to his car, he smiled at his brilliance. _I'm sorry, Captain, but looks like Cooper wasn't the officer we thought he was all this time and was actually dealing smack on the side!_

Coop breathed heavily and the pain emanating from his chest was so intense he almost screamed. Blood dribbled from his mouth and ran out his nose, trickled down his face from glass fragments had gashed it. He could feel warm fluid gushing down his chest and back. Darkness flooded his vision and he almost passed out.

He forced himself to continue breathing, swallowing back the blood trying to drown him. He leaned against his door, his hair wet with perspiration. He tried in vain to staunch the blood flow from below his left chest with his left hand whilst reaching for his walkie-talkie with his right. The pain from moving his shoulder was sharp, but he merely gritted his teeth.

Instinct screamed at him reach for his gun, but he had to conserve what little strength remained. He brought the walkie-talkie his mouth and swallowed before sputtering, "Officer down, east end of the bridge at Diamond." He paused to get a clear breath. "I've been hit. Two shots out of nowhere."

Jimmy jerked forward and his heart began to pound. "That's Coop. Floor it!" he yelled to Malone.

The rookie instantly responded, turning on the siren and hitting the gas. The 1966 Plymouth Fury flew down the deserted street and around parked cars in a red blur.

Coop could feel himself fading as his breathing became more laboured every second and he wished Jimmy were beside him. But as the blood continued to turn his shirt a deep red, he knew he would never make it that long.

Gripping the radio in his hand, he gasped, "Jimmy, if you out there..."

Jimmy's hand flew for his walkie-talkie. "I'm here man, hang on!" He yelled, breathing fast. "Coop!" he shouted when he didn't get an immediate reply.

As it became harder to breathe, Coop felt relief to hear his friend's voice. His fears of death eased as he realized Jimmy didn't really hate him. "Jimmy," he gasped. He stopped to swallow back more warm fluid.

"Keep talking! We're almost there!" Jimmy's voice broke through the cloak Coop began to feel numbing him.

Jimmy held the radio so hard his knuckles turned white. He hand was so clammy, the walkie-talkie almost slipped from his fingers, but he clung to it with a vice-like grip. "You hear me?!" he yelled.

After a few seconds of ominous silence passed, he again called, "Coop!"

Coop felt himself being tugged upwards. There remained so much he wanted to tell his partner. But with his life swiftly drawing to a close, the words he had time enough to say were few.

"Coop?" Jimmy's voice rang through the radio.

Coop took one last deep breath. "We were the lucky ones," he manged to say in a raspy whisper.

For a moment, Jimmy stared at the radio in his hand. _God, damn it, Coop! Don't give up on me!_

"Don't forget that," the radio crackled before Coop's voice cut out.

"Coop!" Jimmy screamed into the radio, his hand trembling.

Coop's right hand fell to his side, radio still clenched within. His open eyes stared vacantly into the night sky.

The previously gentle tugging jerked Coop upward with such force that he almost flipped upside down. As he looked down, he could see he was flying away from himself, his car, away from Philly.

Sarge had sat in the creaky wooden chair during the exchange in stunned silence until Coop's voice no longer came through. He called desperately to his son, praying for a response. "One-oh-eight, are you there? One-oh-eight, are you there?"he shouted over and over.

Coop's lifeless body was still, the silence punctuated only by the desperate calls of his father and partner.

Sev Krol emerged from a cardboard box near the bridge, the sounds of gunfire interrupting his drug induced slumber. Though the ragged drug addict's mortal fear of the police was dulled by the good score he'd earlier injected, he slowly approached the patrol car looming ahead.

Coming up to the driver's window, Krol darted away when he smelt the pungent, rusty iron odour of fresh blood. But as he ran around the car's left side, he caught a glimpse of a yellow brick that pulled him back towards the car.

Visions of that police officer's lifeless body staring back at him with lifeless eyes as it tightly held a radio in its right hand would haunt Krol for the rest of his life. But for that night his mind was mollified in a haze of smoke from that heavy yellow brick. _A cop parked under a bridge with a whole lot of dope in the car? Some hero. Bastard got what he deserved._


	5. The Escape

Hoping that he was taking the fastest route to the bridge, Malone took a sharp left turn, causing Jimmy to lose hold of the radio clenched in his left hand.

"Shit, Malone! I told you to floor it!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!" the other man yelled. "Hang on, we're almost there!"

"You fucking better be!" Jimmy shot back, taking a deep breath to ease his hysteria. "If anything happens to Coop..." his voice trailed off and he began to absently fiddle with the St. Michael's medallion around his neck.

Malone's eyes flickered to the other officer for a brief moment, searching for words of comfort or reassurance. But no words came and it was all he could do to race to stay focused on the road.

 _"We need all available units to the East End and Diamond! Repeat, all available units to the East End and Diamond! We have an officer down and an assailant at large with a gun!"_ the radio blared.

Jimmy focused only on his trembling fingers rubbing his medal. He began praying silently; despite his sins, prayer remained a constant, integral part of his life. _Whoever is out there, help Coop. Please! You got no idea how much I need him to stick around!_

Malone ran over a pothole and the other man's head banged against the dashboard with a nasty thud.

"Shit!" Jimmy cried, rubbing where his head had bashed.

"Shit, sorry!" the rookie stammered stammered, slowing the car down to get a glance at Jimmy's head.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Keep going!" Jimmy screamed, his eyes fiery in the dim light.

"Sorry!" the rookie snapped, flooring the gas.

Jimmy was thrust backwards as the car resumed its reckless pace. Nearing the bridge, he could only hope they would get there in time.

* * *

Murphy slammed his brakes so hard that he would have gone through his windshield had his seatbelt not restrained him. Jerking the seatbelt out of its clasp, he flung open his door and raced over to Coop's car, not bothering to look out for the assailant.

"Coop! he yelled as he came upon the car. His heart began hammering when the only answer was broken glass grinding to powder under his shoe.

He almost fainted when he saw Coop's vacant eyes and blood streaked face, but forced himself to the driver's window. "Coop?" Murphy whispered.

The other officer remained motionless.

Murphy reached through the open window and put his hand to Coop's neck to feel for a jerked his hand back when his fingers felt nothing but cold sweat.

* * *

Coop's flight gathered speed, the stars and clouds around him blending into a dark whirl. He closed his eyes to ease the nausea he could feel creeping up.

Whack!

He bounced off metal and landed on his back. Sitting up, he ubbed his eyes, stunned he felt no pain from the hard hit.

Opening his eyes, he managed to get to his feet and looked around in astonishment. He was surrounded by an immense sea of shimmering gray light with little breaks of yellow beams scattered in its slow waves. He began to walk forward, his feet directed towards one beam by a hidden force.

He looked down and gasped at the crisp white T-shirt and jeans he wore, his bloodied uniform now just a distant memory.

_So, I guess that's it. Bang, bang I'm dead.  
_

His knees began to wobble. Although he had given up religion, Coop had always striven to do what he felt was right, even if his choices weren't popular with others. After all, he had always been taught the end of life was simple: good guys went to Heaven, bad guys to Hell. _Fuck, Jimmy was right; everything really is black and white for me._ But what had formed between Coop and Jimmy still struck him as the right thing, even though his partner had told him only a mere hour before he was no more than a perverted deviant. Even if everyone in his life had found out about it, he still would have believed he and Jimmy were the lucky ones.

But now uncertainty gripped him. His black and white conceptions were shattered. As the beam loomed larger, his fear mounted and he wondered just where it was guys who had killed dozens of their fellowmen or loved their best friends ended up on Judgment Day.

Then all his turmoil laid to rest. A peace he had never before known embraced him as the yellow break in the grey beckoned closer and welcomed him home.

* * *

Murphy spun around and felt relief when he heard a screening siren flood into the area.

Malone sped under the bridge and began slowing the car down as it neared the construction barricades.

Jimmy could wait no longer. The crime scene protocols drilled into him at the Academy fled. He pulled himself out his open window, his jump miscalculated by the patrol car still moving. He hit the gravel strewn pavement hard, landing spreadeagled on his stomach. His knees seared and warm fluid began trickling down from the corner of his mouth.

Startled by the other man's acrobatics, Malone's foot shifted off the brake. The police cruiser slammed into the metal barrels lining the end of the road and ground to a stop.

His beady eyes doubling in size, Murphy gaped at the situation in disbelief.

Jerking off his seatbelt, Malone cursed under his breath as he ran from the still running cruiser to Jimmy's side. "You idiot!" he hissed fiercely. "You're not covered! You trying to get us all killed?"

Ignoring the the know-it-all rookie, Jimmy pulled himself up stiffly. Blood dripped down from his swollen, puffy lip and his pant legs were torn, showing skinned knees. But his pumping adrenalin refused to let Jimmy be distracted by a couple gashes. "Coop!"he yelled, sprinting towards the patrol car. Glancing backward to Murphy, he bellowed, "Murph, you call an ambulance?"

Murphy shook his head. "No point, Jimmy, he's dead,"he said shakily. "I checked Coop when I got here. He's got no pulse. He was gone before I even got here."

Jimmy stopped and gritted his teeth. _Bullshit! It ain't true!_ "Malone, call an ambulance! Tell them we got an officer down!"

Malone hesitated. "But what if the perp…"

"Just shut up and do what I tell you!" Jimmy screamed, his eyes blazing.

"Right!" The kid dashed for the crashed cruiser.

Yelling Coop's name over and over, Jimmy ran for the passenger side of the car. His partner still not answering, he flung open the door and crawled onto the passenger seat, wincing as shards of glass pricked into the cuts on his knees. "Coop?" he whispered. His eyes fell on his partner's vacant, glassy eyes and he almost dissolved into hysteria. But Jimmy steeled himself and shook the other man's shoulder. "Coop, wake up! You gotta hang on! I'm here! We got help coming! Please, man. You gotta hang on!" he yelled, his words coming out in a torrid rush.

"Jimmy?"

"Coop?" Jimmy was startled as the silence was pierced by a quiet whisper.

"No, it's me."

Looking above Coop's head, Jimmy saw Murphy's watery eyes peering back at him.

"I told you already that I checked him when I got here, Jimmy. He's gone. There's nothing we can do for him." Murphy gulped and jerked his head away from Jimmy's piercing eyes. "Best thing we can do is go get the bastard that killed him."

Jimmy turned to stone and glared at the other man. "Don't talk like that! He's gonna be fine!" _Please, man. You gotta be okay, you just gotta._

* * *

"You gotta hang on! I'm here!"

A loud scream echoed and ricocheted throughout the cave as Coop continued his journey forward. Now he whirled around. "Jimmy?" heyelled, his eyes scanning all over for his partner as his body continued to be pulled backwards.

"You gotta be okay man, you just gotta."

He then realized that Jimmy wasn't with him, but light years away in Philly, pleading with his body to stay alive. His palms began to sweat as he realized the magnitude of what he was about to do. If he passed through those bright yellow gates, it would all be over. Jimmy would be left alone to face a world of hate and he would get to spend an eternity watching the man be tormented by his guilt. _No way in hell I'm gonna let that happen_!

He began to run, envisioning himself racing towards home plate in a championship ball game. Nothing. He could feel himself still being jerked in the opposite direction.

It was time for fresh tactics. He broke into a graceful breaststroke, but quickly floundered like a beached whale and still felt himself being dragged slowly out to sea. He struggled to his feet and wanted to thump himself for being so stupid. His swimming lessons at the Y gotten him nothing but lungs full of water. Just why had he figured this time would yield different results?

He planted his feet into place firmly, fighting against the current with all his might. But the undertow continued to drag him towards the gates looming ever larger and golden overhead. Glancing to his right in desperation, he saw the grey light angled downward like a long, unbroken sled run. His eyes lit up. Forcing himself closer to the edge, he  took off his T-shirt and placed it at the top of the hill. Taking a deep breath, Coop ran at the shirt with all the strength he could muster and took a leap.

Whoosh!

Coop and his makeshift sled took off so quickly that the he almost tumbled off. Clutching the T-shirt tight as he came to rest on his stomach, he careened down the hill so rapidly that the grey light dissolved into streaks of quicksilver. He closed his eyes as he began to feel dizzy. _Oh shit! What the fuck have I done?!_ Opening his eyes, he saw blackness and a sense of déjà vu descended upon him. "Uh oh, this can only mean...shit!"

His words clogged in his throat as he was flung off the shirt and thrown headfirst back into the balmy night. The air rushed past him as he began veering towards Earth faster and faster, causing goosebumps to rise on his bare skin. The dark sky was soon lit up as by Philly streetlights. Before long, he could see the white roof of his patrol car. As it neared ever closer, Coop smashed his eyes shut and put his head between his shoulders as he continued to turn somersaults in the air _._ He braced himself for one hell of a bumpy landing.


	6. Whirlwind

"Coop, you hear me? You gotta hang on! Come on, help is almost here!" Jimmy kept shaking Coop's right shoulder, his voice and motion becoming more frenzied with each second that passed.

For the first moments of Jimmy's panic, Murphy had stood frozen. But now he had to put a stop to it. Murphy jogged over to the passenger side of the parked car and tried to pull Jimmy out.

Feeling strong arms trying to tug him backward, Jimmy turned around with blazing eyes. "What the hell are you doing, Murphy? Get off me!" yelled Jimmy, trying to grip the top of the car's slippery leather seat. The shattered glass dug deeper into his knees and shins.

Murphy stopped pulling. "Fuck, Jimmy, come to your senses! I told you, he's gone!" yelled Murphy, his voice ragged. "Now get over here and help me and Malone look for the bastard who did this!"

Jimmy glared at Murphy. "No! It's your fucking fault I wasn't with him you son of a bitch!" Jimmy looked away for a second and the familiar fear once more crept about in the shadows.

But then his jaw tightened and he glowered at Murphy even harder. Never again was fear or Owen Murphy going mess with him or Coop. Jimmy began to turn back to Coop and gave Murphy a small, quick kick in the stomach.

Struck dumb by the blow, Murphy doubled over and backed away. But as the shock subsided, Murphy tried again to get Jimmy back onto the road. "Jimmy, get over here!" Murphy growled.

Having radioed for the medics, Malone had abandoned the crashed Fury by the construction barricade and watched Murphy and Jimmy's exchange in silence. Protocol told him not to interfere and make sure the three of them were covered and safe from harm. But emotion got the best of him and Malone sprinted over to pull Murphy off of Jimmy.

"What the hell you doing you little bastard?" Murphy bellowed, pushing Malone off him so swiftly that the gaunt officer almost flew backwards onto the pavement. Murphy's beady eyes narrowed and tufts of his brown hair stood up like the comb of an arrogant rooster.

Keeping himself upright, Malone replied back in a trembling, but firm voice, "Is it worth it to argue over a dead man?" His brown eyes flashed beneath his mop of curly blond hair.

Murphy glared at Malone, but said nothing. He wasn't sure whether he to punch the little scarecrow before him in the nose or grab him by the shirtfront.

Jimmy paid Murphy and Malone no attention, Coop his sole focus as his voice edged closer to full-blown bawling. "Coop, please! Please hang on! Please man, you gotta, please!"

* * *

_Even with his eyes closed, Coop knew it wouldn't be long before he slammed into the roof of the patrol car. As best as he could, he curled into a ball, covered his head and braced himself for the ricochet off the burning white metal._

* * *

Thump!

Coop bounced like rubber against the hot leather seats and onto the broken windshield before coming to a stop. The concrete pillars of the bridge and glowing yellow lights above the orange and white construction barriers came into focus. For a few seconds, Coop didn't feel anything but the exhilaration from the rapid descent that had been the greatest thrill of his life. Then pain hit him so hard that he almost fainted. He tried to scream, but it came out in a gurgling moan.

"Coop?" Jimmy whispered, opening his eyes. As he saw Coop's eyes squeeze tightly together, he began to scream, "Coop! Coop you're okay! Murph, Malone get the hell over here, Coop's alive!" Jimmy squeezed Coop's shoulder hard.

Malone and Murphy ran over and stood motionless behind Jimmy, their eyes wide.

Jimmy's touch brought with it even an even intenser pain and Coop almost blacked out. Breathing harsh, quick breaths, Coop tried to look over at Jimmy. But his strength continued to ebb away. Penetrating cold made him groan and he writhed in pain.

Jimmy's ecstasy deflated. Blood continued to gush from Coop's wounds, claiming more and more of his shirt. Jimmy became a police officer again. Emergencies and adrenalin always had a numbing effect on him.

"Easy, Coop," said Jimmy in a soft voice. "The ambulance will be here any second. Stay still! I'm gonna have to put pressure on these wounds, so steel yourself." Jimmy reached into his pocket for his handkerchief and bent over Coop. Jimmy put pressure on the worst wound on the left side of Coop's chest.

Coop tried to scream again, but it came out in a muffled gurgle. More blood rushed up his nose and throat and he swallowed it back, struggling to breathe. Cold sweat ran down his chest and back to intermingle with the rivers of blood.

Coop's pulse beat weak and rapid beneath Jimmy's palm and he prayed for the ambulance's swift arrival. "Malone, put pressure on the right wound!" Jimmy yelled, finally thankful for the medical training he had gotten in the army. "Murphy, cover us and get the others to look for the perp when they get here! And get the firefighters over here when you see 'em!"

Malone didn't hesitate and rushed over to the passenger side of Coop's car. He reached for his own handkerchief and hauled open the door. He leaned awkwardly over Coop and Jimmy's arm, putting pressure beneath Coop's right shoulder. Malone almost fainted as Coop's chalky face ghastly highlighted by the bright red streaks of blood running down his face filled his vision. But Malone swallowed back his nausea and did what he had sworn to do only mere weeks before.

Murphy faltered. He was usually the one giving the orders. But as Murphy took a glance around the area, a sickening thought came to him. This was his fault.  McCree and Coop's father had been having hushed conversations over the past week. Murphy knew Serge had told McCree the secret he had exposed and that the result was both men being determined to find a way to fix Jimmy and Coop's twisted sickness.

But he had never imagined Serge and McCree would sort Coop out this way. Fuck, why couldn't you guys have just let it go? Murphy agonized. _Didn't you realize a thing like this could kill you?_

Roaring ambulance sirens dragged Murphy away from his memories and he rushed over to the red 1965 Dodge Rescue. Two burly firefighters in crisp blue uniforms burst out of the ambulance and pulled open the rear door. A third pushed out a stretcher and a medical kit.

"The area's clear!" shouted Murphy. "This way!"

Together, the three firefighters and Murphy rushed towards Coop with a sense of urgency. Police officers and firefighters were brothers in arms and when a fellow member was injured in the line of duty, the effect upon everyone was profound.

"Okay, off of him!" the lead medic yelled at Jimmy and Malone. "Let me in!"

As the three men rushed at him, Coop's eyes widened in fear and his shallow breathing quickened.

"It's okay, Coop! They're gonna help you!" Jimmy shouted over.

More sirens flooded the scene as three more patrol cars arrived. Murphy ran over to them.

The three firemen quickly assessed Coop. "He's in shock!" said the lead medic to the other firefighters. "Quick, help me get him onto the stretcher!"

"The scene's clear!" Murphy shouted to the officers. He pointed at the two officers closest to him. "You two come with me and help me find the perp! You four stay here with Jimmy and Malone. Make sure everyone is covered and secure the scene!" Murphy dashed into a car with two officers and they disappeared down the dusty street with the sirens off.

Though the firemen tried to be gentle in their swift movements, their effort was futile and Coop's vision exploded into a sea of red. Then a beautiful, calm dark enveloped Coop into the stone cold comfort of unconsciousness before his back hit the stretcher.

"He's lost consciousness, we gotta hurry!" yelled one of the firemen. "Penn General's the closest!"

"Get the saline, scissors and oxygen ready!" the lead firefighter yelped. Henderson, you drive! Johnson and me will go in the back!"

Jimmy watched in silence as the three firefighters bundled Coop into the ambulance and took off. He wanted nothing more than to be there in case the unthinkable happened. Coop shouldn't have to die among strangers, Jimmy thought. _If I had gone into that car with him, he would have had a chance!_

Once the ambulance disappeared up Diamond Street, the nausea Malone had swallowed back for the past four minutes overcame his defences. When he finished, he looked up at Jimmy with a pale face beginning to redden in shame.

An officer named Winters came over and gave Malone a pat on the back. "Don't worry about it, kid. The first time I saw someone die, I did the same thing after it was over."

Jimmy came out of his stupour. "Don't talk like that, Winters! Coop is gonna be fine!" With his fists clenched up against his chest, Jimmy's icy glare dared Winters to contradict him.

"I know he is," said Winters, avoiding Jimmy's eyes. "You okay, Bruno?"

"Sure," lied Jimmy.

"You look like you've taken a beating," remarked Winters, eyeing Jimmy up and down.

Jimmy suddenly became cognizant of his skinned knees embedded with shards of glass and still bleeding, swollen lip. "Yeah, well, I fell rushing to get over to Coop. The adrenalin pumped a little too hard, I guess," he said with a weary smile.

"Most of us woulda done the same. Just a shame McCree told you take out Malone tonight," said Winters, his voice wavering. "Coop's always been too much of a cowboy for his own good. He needs someone like you to keep him in check."

Jimmy became even more wreaked with remorse. _I was so stupid to think an hour ago was the worst time of my life! Coop was right, I was afraid of everything important. Now that I'm not, it's too late._ But like before, Jimmy maintained a cool exterior that belied the chaos going on inside. "So, what's our orders?" Jimmy asked Winters.

"Murphy told us to keep the scene secure. Lewis over there says McCree radioed he's on his way over. He wants us to stay here 'til then."

"Alright," said Jimmy in a low voice. Looking down, he saw the sodden, blood soaked handkerchief he still clenched in his hand. He threw the handkerchief away from him like it was burning him and Jimmy walked over to join the other three officers to keep his mind off the whirlwind swirling inside him with fury.


	7. Brothers

Jimmy and Winters walked towards the hood of the abandoned patrol car that was now a crime scene, joining officers Lewis, Schmidt, and Nelson. With hands crammed in their pockets and shoulders hunched forward tensely, none of the officers spoke to one another. Jimmy grimaced as the tortured skin on his knees stretched painfully with each step, but it was welcome distraction from his swirling thoughts.

Malone trailed behind Jimmy and kept himself at a distance from the other officers. Although the guys had all welcomed him warmly to the precinct over the past week, he remained uncertain if the guys now considered him part of the brotherhood.

Schmidt, a lanky officer with a black crew cut, moved took a few steps until he was beside Jimmy, staring at him anxiously.

"Hey, Russ," said Jimmy, trying to pretend things were normal.

Schmidt smiled slightly. "You okay, Jimmy? You're looking rough."

"I'm fine," replied Jimmy softly, averting his eyes to the sky. He tried to find the the Big Dipper so he could convince himself it was last Saturday when he and Coop had stargazed in Jimmy's backyard as they had silently slugged back beer and held hands. The visions Jimmy was having of Coop's terrified, blood-streaked face had to be a nightmare. But the glaring streetlights made seeing the stars impossible and tonight's horrible scenes flood before Jimmy with each weary blink.

The other officers kept their guns drawn whilst glancing around the area for signs of trouble. Lewis and Nelson moved to opposite ends of the scene to keep away the curious crowd beginning to gather. The ritual of duty was soothing and helped the men forget for brief moments what had happened to one of their own.

Relief washed over the officers when the tension was severed by another patrol car's siren and a black Plymouth Fury screeching tires.

Jimmy's glance fell upon McCree as he stepped out of the patrol car, followed by Detective Buck Hollis. Two men Jimmy didn't recognize stepped out of the unmarked car, carrying cameras and crime scene investigation kits.

McCree took off his dark blue jacket and flung it onto the roof of his patrol car. He walked up to Jimmy and Schmidt, hands on his hips. "Scene clear and secure?"

"Yes, sir," said Schmidt. "No sign of the perp. Murphy and two other guys went to look for him."

"Do we have a description?"

"No," replied Jimmy with a loud sigh, staring at the gravel strewn road below him."I don't think Coop saw him at all. Said the shots came out of nowhere when he radioed for help."

"Didn't you see him, Jimmy?!"

"No, sir. I decided to take Malone out."

"What?! You're saying Cooper was alone?"

Jimmy swallowed and could feel words lumping together in his throat. "Yeah, he went off alone after I said I was taking Malone out."

"Fuck! I want you guys to bring in every piece of scum in the area until we get our man! I want every available man on this!"

McCree walked over to the patrol car, examining its broken windshield and blood streaked leather seats. McCree shot Jimmy an icy glare. "Cooper should have waited for backup! But he didn't, surprise surprise! The jackass always has to be the hero," said McCree, shaking his head in disgust. The self-righteous jackass couldn't even die without a dramatic exit.

Jimmy stared hard at the ground, trying to contain the rage that filled him. McCree hating Coop was an open secret around the precinct, but for McCree to say such horrible things _now_ boggled Jimmy's mind.

McCree surveyed the scene and directed his detectives to begin processing the cruiser until more help arrived. As McCree continued his tour, he stopped when he felt himself step in a puddle. The putrid smell of vomit invaded his nostrils.

"Dammit! What the hell did I just step in?" McCree bellowed, clenching a fist when he saw the mess on his highly polished black shoes.

Winters ran over and handed McCree a handkerchief. "Here, sir, use this. And it's just a little barf. Malone was a bit shaken up and lost his dinner."

At the mere mention of his name, Malone paled.

"Fucking rookies, no good for anything!" McCree muttered under his breath as he wiped his shoes vigorously. Satisfied at last that the tops of his shoes were spotless, McCree chucked the soiled handkerchief back at Winters.

"Uh, thanks sir," said Winters, removing the cloth from his shirt with the tip of his finger and letting it slip to the ground.

McCree resumed looking around the scene and his eyes spotted the crashed cruiser by the metal barrel barricade. He ran over to it, the veins in his forehead bulging when he saw the large dent on the bumper. "And what the hell happened here!?"

"That was me, sir," said Malone, his voice barely audible. "Jim- I mean I got nervous and let my foot off the brake when we got here. I'm sorry, sir," said Malone, ducking his head and turning even paler.

Jimmy ground his teeth. He knew no good could come out of Malone's admission. Besides, the whole crash was his fault.

McCree strode over to Malone and exploded, "Jesus! Two cars in one day damaged by rookies! You're just lucky that car is on its last legs, Malone, or you'd be out of here so fast! How the hell could you let this happen, Jimmy?!"

McCree's angry eyes land upon Jimmy's face and he was about to go into another tirade when Jimmy's puffy lip became his latest fixation. "Jimmy, what the hell happened to you?!"

"I fell," said Jimmy, his eyes darting about. _Malone will only get in more trouble if I tell McCree the real truth!_

McCree narrowed his green eyes and pushed Jimmy's chin up. Jimmy winced in pain as McCree's greasy, chubby fingers began probing the bruised, cut flesh.

McCree looked annoyed as he wiped his fingers on Jimmy's shirt. "Well, you've gone and done it, Jimmy! That thing ain't gonna without stitches. Get Malone to take you back to the station. After you clean up, Malone can take you to Penn General. Washington barely has anyone on this time of the night. After that, go home."

Jimmy shook his head. "No, I'm staying 'til we get the bastard that shot Coop!"

McCree shook his head and a shadow crossed his face. "Don't be stupid, Jimmy! What good are you here in this condition? Malone will take you to the station so you can get cleaned up. Malone will then take you to Penn General. Once you're treated, Malone will take you back to the station and you will then go home. Understand?"

Jimmy paused, but knew that was the end of the argument. "You don't want Malone back here, sir? I could drive myself to Penn General."

McCree let out a contemptuous snort. "I knew being partnered with Cooper would get to you! Use your head, Jimmy! What good is a rookie on a job like this? The kid already crashed a car and lost his lunch! We don't need him shitting on evidence next! I dunno why I'm not making him join Bon Boivin in the unemployment line!"

Malone kept silent, but Jimmy saw his eyes glisten as Malone lowered his head in embarrassment.

McCree sighed. "Alright you two...scram! No, don't take one of those cars! The cruiser you crashed will do!"

Silently, Jimmy and Malone got into the patrol car. Before Jimmy even had time to reach for his seatbelt, Malone had put the car into gear. Jimmy crashed backwards against the seat as Malone reversed and began speeding back towards the station.

As street lights rushed past and highlighted their bodies in ghostly silhouette, Jimmy and Malone said nothing for the first few minutes of the drive. Jimmy glanced at Malone and noticed a couple silent tears forcing their way down his cheeks.

Feeling Jimmy's glance, Malone swore under his breath and narrowed his eyes, trying to stem any more moisture from creeping out.

Despite worry and guilt over Coop clouding most of his subconscious, Jimmy's heart went out to Malone. The kid was trying so hard. Hell, what had happened tonight had made seasoned officers like he and Murphy almost break down. _How the hell can McCree expect some nineteen year old kid fresh out of the Academy to handle something like that without flinching?!_

"Malone," said Jimmy quietly. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble with McCree. Don't believe any of that shit he said. You did a good job tonight, a hell of a good job."

"Sure," muttered Malone sarcastically. "Did such a good job I couldn't even keep my shit together."

"Jesus, man, you heard what Winters said!" Jimmy shot back. "We've all been there! Hell, I know a guy who has twenty-five years on the force. He went to a scene a few years ago where a six-year-old kid had been bludgeoned and strangled. He got sick and fainted right there at the crime scene. And this is a guy who's seen horrible things in Korea, stuff you don't even want to imagine."

"Really? You're not just making that up to make me feel better?" asked Malone, glancing at Jimmy as they neared the 5th District Police Station.

Jimmy looked sick. "Sure wish I was making it up. No kid deserved an ending like that. Just like tonight. Coop didn't deserve what happened to him. Maybe if I'd been with him…," Jimmy trailed off as he ducked his head and faced his window.

Malone sighed. "You know, it's stuff like this that makes me wonder why I want to be a police officer and see all the ugly stuff people do to each other. I think I was better off not knowing stuff like this existed."

"I know what you mean," said Jimmy, probing the corner of his lip with his tongue. "But somewhere along the line, that shit becomes the reason you stay a cop. We're brothers that are here to put the scumbags away." Jimmy's heart ached as that last phrase echoed Coop's words from an intense encounter that now seemed to have occurred a lifetime ago.

Malone kept his eyes on the road. "Hope you're right, Bruno. I sure don't feel that way right now, though. I'm not sure I'm cut out to be a cop." Malone fell silent for a few moments. "But...I'm uh…sorry about your partner. I hope he'll be okay."

Jimmy looked away. "Thanks, Malone. I'm praying he'll be okay."

The red brick police station came into focus and Jimmy said, "Well, looks like we're here. You just park and I'll go clean up."

"Okay, Bruno. I'll just wait here, since McCree told me I'm not needed," said Malone, emphasizing the last part angrily as he turned into the parking lot.

Once the car was stopped, Jimmy flung open his door and leapt out. After he had slammed closed the door, Jimmy began to walk away. Then he stopped. "Malone!" Jimmy called.

"Yeah, Bruno?"

"You can call me Jimmy. Most everyone else does."

"Alright, Br—Jimmy. You can call me Joe, if you want."

Jimmy smiled. "Alright, Joe. Be back soon."

Despite the agony from his legs, Jimmy broke into a quick trot, ran past the chain link fence and crossed the road to the station. He knew the quicker he hurried, the sooner he would get to Penn General, where he had heard the firefighters mention they were taking Coop. Jimmy's loyalty to McCree's orders would end once he got to the hospital. What had started as a brotherly bond between partners had evolved into a passion he was no longer ashamed of. Jimmy just hoped Coop was being the stubborn bastard he had come to love as he entered the deserted locker room, praying it wasn't too late to tell Coop he was sorry.


	8. Flashbacks

Shaking his head, Jimmy flicked on the light switch and the quiet locker bay was soon abuzz with florescent lights. Jimmy winced and blinked hard as he became accustomed to the bright glare. When he opened his eyes, the red concrete floor greeted him and a flashback of the blood running down Coop's face again engulfed his sight.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the dirty white ceiling, Jimmy strolled towards the towel rack at the back of the locker room until his right shin smashed into the edge of a wooden bench that was centred in between the bays of beaten, gray metal lockers. Placing his foot on the bench, Jimmy bit his tongue and rubbed his sore shin vigorously. _Fuck, if I keep this up, Coop won't be the only one in danger of dying._ Focusing straight ahead so his eyes would not rest on Coop's locker, Jimmy grabbed a crisp, snow white towel from the rack.

Going over to the sinks, Jimmy turned on the cold water and splashed a double handful onto his face. As the icy water trickled back to the sink, Jimmy spat into the cracked basin. Gently patting his face dry, Jimmy came face to face with his reflection in the greasy mirror. He couldn't believe that the gaunt faced man with black rimmed, bloodshot eyes and a swollen, bleeding lip that stared back was him. Shaken by the image, Jimmy looked downward to his shirt and came face to face with Coop's blood intermingled with his.

 _Fucking hell!_ Jimmy lost his composure and the sobs he had fiercely suppressed for the past forty minutes since Coop had radioed he had been shot won. Jimmy walked back to the bench, sat down, and crammed a corner of the towel into his mouth so anyone lurking nearby wouldn't hear the wails struggling to erupt out of his throat.

* * *

Snatches of gunshots, a radio crackly with static, and the frantic sobs of a tormented man in agony caused Coop to wake and sit up with a start. The green-cloth book containing the collected works of William Wordsworth that had been resting on his face fell to the concrete floor with a thud.

Eying the dingy concrete walls, Coop was numb with relief. He wasn't back in Vietnam, but sitting on the worn yellow sofa in his cellar. Clad only in light blue boxers and his sweaty black work socks, Coop had covered himself in the night with a white sheet when the damp cellar air had made him shiver. The heat wave of late had been so fierce that the cellar was the only place he could relax or sleep in comfort.

Climbing to his feet, Coop picked up the book and placed it on the overturned cardboard box he was using as a side table. Gathering up three crumpled Ballantine Ale beer cans strewn around the couch, Coop carried them over to the corner of the cellar, adding them to the growing collection in a worn burlap sack. Recalling last night had been a Friday night he didn't have to work, Coop wondered why had he hadn't drunk more. More booze equalled less chance of remembering the dreams that had haunted him for over a year.

Then Coop remembered. Allan's wedding! He had to be at the reception hall in Roxborough by 1 pm. Coop glanced at the watch strapped to his left wrist in a panic: 9:21 am. Coop's racing heartbeat slowed. He had plenty of time to get ready.

Scratching his chest, Coop dashed up the wooden steps and flung open the white wooden door to the kitchen, cursing to himself. For over a month, Coop had promised himself he would replace the alarm clock he had broken when he had thrown it against his bedroom wall after it had jarred him out of a particularly bad nightmare. But he just hadn't gotten around to it with all the overtime he and Jimmy had had to put in lately. Well, at least I woke up before the wedding started, Coop thought sheepishly, still embarrassed about Jimmy's son's baptism some three weeks before.

Entering the yellow walled kitchen, Coop walked into the front hall and opened the front door, grabbing the heavy glass milk bottle off the front step. Milk in hand, Coop slammed the front door and walked back to the kitchen to make himself a bowl of puffed rice. It was a far cry from the usual bacon, eggs and toast he normally fried up when he had mornings off. But Coop knew a massive feast awaited him later in the day. Allan had kept warning him all month that his new Italian mother-in-law would be offended if Coop didn't have a least three helpings of everything she had laboured to cook.

Eating the last spoonful of cereal, Coop tipped his head back and slurped up the milk, leaning on the back of the blue vinyl chair. Putting the bowl down onto the white tabletop, Coop wiped his milk mustache off with the back of his hand, prickling himself with stubble.

Better shave today so I look half decent, Coop thought grudgingly, rubbing his face. Normally, Coop liked to leave a bit of beard on his face because he felt it made him look tougher and more his age. Even though Coop was twenty-five, people often thought he was younger, especially when he was clean shaven. And it infuriated him, especially when his mother Elizabeth would tell Coop that when he turned fifty, he would see looking youthful as a good thing. That was little consolation to Coop when he continued to get IDed like some punk kid when he wanted to buy whisky and beer at places he didn't regularly patronize.

Grunting, Coop got up and walked over to the sink, quickly washing the bowl and spoon and placing them on the metal drying rack to the right on the blue countertop. Grabbing a glass, Coop poured himself some water and placed it in the white enamel sink when he finished, knowing he would use the glass later.

"Meow." Coop's grey striped tabby cat Robin entered the kitchen.

"Was wondering where my slugger's been hiding! What, no presents for me today?" Coop inquired as he crouched down to pet Robin. Though he despised baseball, Robin had proven himself so adept at batting balls past Coop that he had had felt compelled to name him after Robin Roberts. Roberts had been Coop's favourite Phillies player back when baseball had not only been a passion, but his entire existence.

Robin answered Coop with a rumbling of his throat and wove himself between Coop's bare legs.

"Lemme guess...you're hungry," said Coop, picking up Robin's dish. Grabbing the Friskies box he kept in the brown wooden cupboard above the sink, Coop poured out a generous helping of kibble. Coop then grabbed his clean breakfast bowl from the metal drying rack and filled it with milk, placing it with Robin's food dish on a newspaper by the backdoor.

Robin raced over and began wolfing down the kibble. Though a year had passed since the stray waif had wandered into Coop's backyard, Robin still bolted down his food as if he were afraid it would disappear.

* * *

_Coop's dad had been baffled when Coop had decided to keep the cat. "Look, son, I know you feel sorry for the little bugger, but couldn't you get a dog? After all, dogs are loyal. Cats are aloof and nothing but trouble!" declared Serge as he glared at the skinny creature hiding underneath the coffee table._

_Robin peered back at Serge, his yellow eyes glowing green in the semi-darkness._

_Coop stared at his father. "Pop, you know I ain't home enough to take care of a dog properly. Cats can handle being alone better. Besides, Robin will leave less hair on the couch than Brenda did." Coop chuckled. Brenda was his most recent ex-girlfriend and she had been obsessed with wigs. Unfortunately, Brenda had had very little intelligence and had constantly bought cheap wigs that fell apart and shed everywhere._

_"Besides, Pop, girls love cats," Coop pointed out._

_Coop's father had groaned, conceding Coop the argument. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you!"_

* * *

Months later, Coop realized his father had been right in some ways. Robin was an expert mouser who had a tendency to bring inside all his prey and he also had a knack for getting trapped in closets. But Coop didn't care. Next to Jimmy and the close—sometimes—relationship he enjoyed with his mother, Robin had become his best friend. Robin listened to him without getting bored and he seemed to enjoy it when Coop read his poetry and short stories aloud.

Coop had convinced the guys at the station that his greatest thrills in life consisted of drinking beer and chasing women, but his real passions were very different. After a tough day at work, Coop liked nothing more than to grab an ice cold beer and get lost in writing or reading a good book as he explored in literature the other possibilities life had to offer him. During these times, Coop had come to long sharing his visions of living a different kind of life with someone other than himself. But, until the right person had happened along, Robin had been all that he had.

* * *

_Ironically, it had been Robin that had led to Coop having that someone he could share his secret desires with. Six months after they had become partners, Jimmy and Coop had established a routine of spending free Friday and Saturday nights drinking beer and playing poker._

_As usual that frosty winter evening, Coop had invited Jimmy over for Friday night beers and he had left the front door unlocked so Jimmy could let himself in. While waiting for Jimmy to arrive, Coop got a poem stuck in his head that just had to get out on paper. He got so involved with writing it, reading a line here and there to Robin, that he didn't hear Jimmy come into the house._

_"Coop!" Jimmy yelled, putting the case of beer on the ground and taking off his heavy winter coat, throwing it on a coat rack by Coop's front door. "I'm here and got some beer!" Jimmy called. The weather outside was clear, but freezing and Jimmy's cheeks were apple red._

_Getting no answer, Jimmy yelled again, "Coop, I'm here! Where the hell are you?"_

_"A bullet to the heart is salvation,_   
_But I shall not yield to the temptation," Coop replied._

_"What the hell?" Jimmy wondered, a chill running down his spine. "Coop, what's going on?"_

_"I don't know about that line. Robin, what do you think? You like it? Perfect!" Coop's voice came from the direction of his den, a spare bedroom located off the front hall._

_Jimmy then realized Coop was talking to his cat, although the topic of conversation scared him. He entered Coop's den and coughed, startling Coop and causing him to throw the leather-bound notebook he had been writing in to the brown shag floor._

_"Jimmy! Didn't hear ya come in!" said Coop quickly, getting up from his desk chair. Coop's face turned a bright shade of red that matched the long-sleeved, button-down shirt he was wearing._

_"Yeah, I'm here. Got the Budweisers. Coop, what were you doing?" asked Jimmy as he placed the case of beer on the coffee table._

_"Me? Nothing much, just editing the ladies' numbers for my little black book." Coop grinned and jerked a thumb towards his desk. "Ya know I pick them like cherries and that I gotta keep track of them somehow!"_

_Jimmy cocked an eyebrow. "I heard you talking about a bullet. What the hell was that about?"_

_Coop became uneasy and began combing his mind for an explanation as he cursed himself for his stupidity. "Oh, was just thinking out loud that me breaking it off with a girl is like a bullet in the heart to them. But ya know how it is. Can't keep dating someone who's wrong for me. I gotta pick and choose," Coop replied casually, cramming his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans._

_Jimmy didn't believe a word of it and picked up Coop's notebook. Flicking through the pages, Jimmy said, "Gee, these sure don't look like phone numbers."_

_Coop's face darkened and he grabbed the notebook out of Jimmy's hands, flinging it back onto his desk. "Here, sit down so we can watch TV," Coop muttered quickly as he switched the television on to a noisy, old war movie and ripped open the beer case. Without a second glance, Coop grabbed a brown bottle chilled from the frozen December air and kicked Robin off the sofa as he sat down._

_Jimmy remained standing. His curiosity had been piqued. Jimmy went over to the desk, once again grabbing the notebook._

_Shit! Coop thought in a panic as his glance turned to Jimmy. There was no way Jimmy could read what he had written in that notebook that was a combination of short stories, poems, and diary entries. If the guys at the station got word of this, he would never be able to show his face at work again. "Jimmy, please just put that down and forget about it," Coop pleaded, his blue eyes fixed hard on Jimmy._

_Jimmy stared at Coop. Thus far, Coop had never hidden anything about his life from him. On the contrary, Coop usually went into too much detail about his escapades for Jimmy's tastes. "You afraid for me to read this or something, Coop?" Jimmy asked._

_Coop scoffed. "Me? Afraid? Right," said Coop, rolling his eyes._

_"Then why aren't ya letting me read it?" Jimmy persisted._

_Coop paused. "It's private," he said at last._

_"If you want it to be so private, why do you share it with your cat?"_

_Coop reached the end of his tether and jumped off the sofa. "Fine!" Coop bellowed. "Whatever, go ahead and read it! See if I care!" Coop yelled as he took his beer bottle and threw it against the wooden wall. As it smashed, Coop stormed out of the den and into his living room, where he promptly began wringing his hands around a cushion._

_Robin trembled and cowered under the sofa in the den._

_For a moment, Jimmy stood in stunned silence as the beer and smashed glassed finished raining down on him. Jimmy had been witness to Coop's short temper dozens of times, but it had never been directed this violently towards him before. Jimmy went over to the television and switched off the movie, picking up the notebook that had fallen from his hands._

_Hearing the war movie go silent, Coop knew Jimmy was going to read what he had written. He began punching the cushion in a furor._

_The den now quiet, Robin crept out slowly and jumped back onto the sofa, taking a seat next to Jimmy._

_Once seated, Jimmy began thumbing through the notebook, drawn to the very end and Coop's most recent writing. Coop's handwriting was a neat contrast to the usual chicken scratch he scrawled on sheet after sheet of paperwork at the station. As Jimmy read about Coop's desire to end his war flashbacks with a bullet to the heart, but refusing to let go of life so easy, a lone tear trickled down his cheek._

_As if sensing his torment, Robin quietly licked Jimmy's hand._

* * *

_Ten minutes later, as Coop's rage was diminishing, Jimmy emerged from the den. His white polo shirt was stained pale yellow by the beer that had poured over him and Jimmy's face wore a funny expression. Robin trailed behind him._

_"Coop?" asked Jimmy._

_Coop stopped punching the pillow and glared at Jimmy as his breath came out in ragged gasps, his face bright red with exertion. "What do you want?" Coop yelled._

_Jimmy rocked on his feet nervously as he realized Coop hadn't completely cooled down. "So...uh...I read some of that stuff you wrote down and all I can say is wow," Jimmy stammered.  
_

_Coop's gave Jimmy a hard glare. "Lemme guess, you're gonna tell the guys I'm crazy and that I have long monologues with my cat?"_

_Jimmy shook his head, looking hurt. "Nah, I'd never do that to you. I'm just not sure what to say 'cos I didn't know you write so good."_

_Coop proceeded cautiously, not sure where this conversation was headed. "Yeah, I write good, always have. I majored in English in college." Embarrassed or not, Coop was well aware the power of his talent._

_Jimmy looked surprised. "I didn't know you went to college!"_

_Coops scrunched up his face, weighing in his mind the risks of telling Jimmy more than had already been exposed, but decided what the hell. Jimmy seemed genuinely curious. "Yeah, I went to Penn. It wasn't the original plan. My folks didn't have the money for me to go to college, so I figured I'd join the force after I was done school. But I pitched for my high school time and ended up getting a baseball scholarship. The pro scouts hit me hard my senior year at Penn. But after four years of college ball, I was sick of it and wanted to do something else with my life. It pissed Pop off, but I decided to try and be an English teacher instead of going professional."_

_Jimmy's eyes widened.  
_

_Coop ran a hand thorough his hair. "So anyways, I took a sales job after I graduated and was gonna save up for the Teacher's College. But February '65 came along and I ended up getting drafted and spending two years in the army and Vietnam. When I got back, I needed to get a job pretty quick because there was no way I could stand living with my folks for more than a month. Pop kept going on and on to me about how short-staffed the force was and how much money other Vietnam vets were getting by going to the Police Academy, so I went. Really wasn't any other choice. I couldn't let Pop down again after the whole baseball thing," Coop explained, shrugging._

_Jimmy looked at Coop in astonishment. "Didn't realize you were so smart, Coop. I mean I know you're a wiseass and I'd heard things about you playing being a good pitcher in high school, but I just can't picture you as a teacher or in college."_

_"Yeah, Pop didn't want it to get around; thought it would screw up his reputation. Thought the guys would think he was some sort of loser for having a son who wanted to be a teacher instead of a cop or baseball player," said Coop darkly._

_Jimmy glared. "Forget about what Serge thinks. That last thing you wrote really got to me."_

_Coop sat down on the brown sofa, looking embarrassed. "Uh, you mean that piece about wanting to commit suicide, don't you?" Coop mumbled._

_Jimmy sat down next to him, not quite meeting Coop's gaze. "Yeah, that," Jimmy muttered._

_Coop looked hard at Jimmy. "Just so we're clear, I don't wanna die. Hell, I'd never have the courage to actually do it. But sometimes at night when I wake up from these horrible dreams, it's tempting. I guess you probably think I'm crazy for not being able to put Vietnam behind me by now."_

_Jimmy looked sadly at Coop. "No, I don't think you're crazy. I sort of get how you feel. I don't get dreams like that; I spent my draft stationed in North Dakota. But my dad had stuff like you do. After he got back from Europe in '45, he'd wake up screaming all the time, thinking he was still fighting. Sometimes he'd just sit in a chair for hours looking out the window, not saying nothing. It got better with time, but I know he still has the dreams sometimes."_

_Coop looked at Jimmy. "No fooling?"_

_Jimmy smiled slightly. "No fooling."_

_Coop sighed with relief. "Anyways, I guess you know all my dirty secrets now. Just promise me you won't tell the other guys? Pop will kill me if he finds out about this stuff," Coop pleaded._

_Jimmy smiled. "Sure, Coop, it's a promise. If you ever need to talk about this stuff, I'll listen. Hell, I'd like to read more of your stuff if that's okay?"_

_Coop hesitated, but then grinned. "Sure, so long as you give me honest feedback. Robin's great listener, but he ain't much of a critic."_

_Jimmy's brow furrowed. "There's just one thing bugging me though."_

_"What's that, Jimmy?" Coop asked._

_"Uh, what's a monologue?" Jimmy asked, flushing in embarrassment._

_Coop raised his eyebrows. "Ever read Shakespeare?"_

_"Yeah, back in high school. Back in the dark ages," said Jimmy, grinning._

_"Come with me," Coop had said as he stood up. "We're gonna look at something by Shakespeare called "Hamlet's Soliloquy", which is one of the best monologues ever written. You'll understand after it. Promise."_

* * *

After that evening, sharing his writing and favourite books with Jimmy had become a regular thing when they had hung out together. Slowly, their conversations had evolved from women and alcohol to various facets of life. Before he knew what had happened, a full-blown passion Coop knew he would never experience with anyone else had emerged.

As Robin finished chowing down, Coop wandered into the living room, a smile on his face. He was still unable to believe how lucky he had finally become.

* * *

At last calming down, Jimmy blew his nose onto the towel. He suddenly remembered Joe was waiting for him in the parking lot and he scrambled to his feet and rushed to his locker, angry he had delayed himself from getting to Coop.

Unbuttoning his ruined shirt with trembling fingers, Jimmy ripped it and his stained T-shirt off in one swift motion, cramming them far back on the top shelf. He grabbed his red polo shirt off the hook and quickly put it on, slamming the locker shut.


	9. Denial

Joe felt himself getting antsy as he leaned against the bumper of his patrol car. Twenty slow minutes had passed since Jimmy had disappeared into the stationhouse to clean-up and he was still nowhere to be seen. Joe considered going into the station to see if Jimmy was alright, but his judgment decided against it. _If I was in that man's shoes, would take me forever to..._

"I'm here, Joe! What the fuck are you doing out here? Let's go!" yelled Jimmy, looking irritated as he at last reappeared in the parking lot. He held a damp towel to his bleeding lip and limped slightly on his cut and bruised right leg. Though Jimmy had changed out of his blood stained shirt shirt, he still wore his torn uniform pants and gunbelt, with his red polo shirt stuffed in and out of his pants like a the jersey of a hockey player.

Joe's mouth sneered. "I did wait in the car, but you took so long I need some air!" he replied crisply, flinging open the driver's door and jumping into his seat.

"Whatever," Jimmy mumbled as he entered the patrol car. "Let's just get a move on to Penn General so I can hear how Coop—I mean so I can get patched up."

"Yeah, sure," said Joe as he waited for Jimmy to get buckled up. "You didn't bother changing your pants?"

"What for? No point ruining two pairs of pants; I already got holes-in-one." Jimmy snickered at his own lame joke.

Joe stared at Jimmy with uncomprehending eyes.

Jimmy felt his cheeks go hot. "You know...holes...like…a hole in one in golfing? Get it?"

Joe offered Jimmy a slight smile. "Oh, yeah. I've just never been golfing." Seeing Jimmy belted, Joe put the car into drive and began heading out of the parking lot.

"Oh, me neither. It's a joke my son Adam told me it. He's eight, so I guess that explains why he finds the joke funny," explained Jimmy.

"I guess so. Guess that's the shame of getting getting older, ain't it? Things just aren't as good as they used to be. I guess that's why God gave us kids, to help us remember how life should be," remarked Joe, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead as he smiled at his own irony. Hell, childhood was hardly behind Joe. Three years ago, he had even still slept with his teddy bear. But tonight had shed the aura of youth that had clung to him.

"Yeah," said Jimmy before falling silent. A different type of guilt was beginning to prick him. He was married to a beautiful wife and had three gorgeous children. Ten years ago, Jimmy had promised to honour and cherish his wife until only death parted them. Yet Jimmy had thrown that promise away one warm spring evening after a few drinks too many. It was true that he and Eileen's marriage was far from flawless. Over the past five years, what the closeness they had once shared had been eroded by too many late work nights and missed anniversary dinners. Having Tommy had been a calculated, desperate move to salvage their marriage.

But that didn't change that what had happened that night in the backyard with Coop and since had simply been lust, the intimacy Jimmy had missed having with his wife. For a brief moment, Jimmy convinced himself that what he and Coop shared was little more than a brotherly bond. Tonight had been a clear message from God that what he and Coop were doing was vile and that the Lord was cleansing the Earth of sinners.

Then Jimmy shivered as the streetlights flashed by as Joe continued his erratic driving towards the hospital. _How the fuck can I think such a horrible thing?!_ The past six weeks had been the best ones Jimmy had ever enjoyed and he leaned back against the leather seat with closed eyes, hoping for happy memories to erase the horror he had witnessed a mere hour before.

* * *

A huge smirk crossing his face, Coop broke out into a whistle as he entered his white and brown living room and headed straight for his brown velvet armchair. Once settled, Coop rested his feet on the matching ottoman, beginning to imagining what the following early morning hang-out session with Jimmy would bring.

Robin followed Coop into the living room. Seeing his master settled, Robin jumped onto Coop's lap and began clawing Coop's bare thighs.

"Ow! Robin, cut that out!" Coop cried, pushing Robin off him.

Robin sat at the foot of the ottoman, looking up at Coop with beseeching yellow eyes.

Coop sighed. He loved Robin's companionship, but the cat was sometimes so clingy it was like having a wife. Still, feeling guilty for pushing Robin off, Coop whipped the black sock off his right foot and folded it into a ball, tossing it into the kitchen. Coop grinned; even out of practice, he still had a hell of a pitch.

Robin took off excitedly, his long claws making clicking noises on the linoleum floor as he batted the sock towards the kitchen table.

Chuckling, Coop leaned back and closed his eyes, reminiscing for the hundredth time how his happiness had began.

* * *

_The irony that June 14, 1968, the night Coop had first kissed Jimmy, fell on the day after his tenth wedding anniversary had not failed to be lost on Jimmy. Over the ensuing weeks, Jimmy had thought about it constantly, wondering if that date was a positive or negative sign towards the passionate affair beginning to develop between Coop and himself._

_Whatever the magic eight ball dictated, that Friday hadn't enjoyed a good start. Jimmy had arrived at the station in his brown 1964 Vista Cruiser well ahead of schedule. He liked to use the extra time to grab a cup of coffee in the staffroom and chat with the guys as he took his time to get ready._

_Jimmy began to worry as 6 am was neared with still no sign of Coop. Coop arriving with just a few minutes to spare wasn't unusual, but even this was later than Jimmy felt easy with._

_Just as Jimmy was about to give Coop's house a ring in case he had slept through his alarm again, Coop jogged into the locker room. Coop's white T-shirt was wrinkled and untucked into his work pants. Coop brushed past Jimmy without speaking and began digging in his locker for his clean light gray shirt. Jimmy was shocked when he caught a glimpse of Coop's profile. Coop's face looked haggard, his eyes bloodshot, and surrounded by dark circles._

_Owen Murphy walked over to Jimmy and Coop chuckling as Coop began buttoning up his shirt. "Damn, Coop, you look like shit! Burning the midnight oil again?" There had been so much trouble in North Philly lately some of the guys had had to pull thirty-six hour shifts._

_Coop returned Murphy's smirk. "Hell no! I found me a nice lady at Joe's and took her back to my place. We had some late night fun," said Coop with a condescending wink._

_"Damn! You'll have to give me some of your secrets sometime, man." Murphy whistled jealously. It was well known around the precinct that Murphy often struck out when he asked women out on dates._

_"Sure Murph, if you think you can keep up with me!" The prospect was so ridiculous that Coop broke into laughter._

_"Aw, shut up!" Murphy skulked out of the locker room. While Coop and Murphy couldn't be described as friends, both harboured a secret respect for each other as policemen._

_"So, another girl, Coop?" asked Jimmy, straightening his name tag._

_"Ya know it." Coop smiled, but kept averted his gaze from Jimmy's curious eyes._

_Jimmy looked down. He could forget so easily how smooth a liar Coop could be. But Coop's averted gaze made it clear Coop hadn't had a hot date the night previous. Instead, Coop had had more nightmares and had not gotten back to sleep on a night just after doing a twenty-four shift that had given them little downtime. Jimmy hoped Coop would have the energy after work to hang out at his place later. Friday and Saturday nights spent with Coop were easily the highlight of his week._

_His shirt tucked into place, Coop put his gunbelt, securing his baton and making sure his gun was in its holster. After straightening his badge, Coop looked at his watch and grinned. "Made it by the skin of my teeth! I know we gotta go catch the bad guys, Jimmy, but do ya mind if I stop by the staffroom for a couple cups of the strong black stuff?" asked Coop._

_"Sure, Coop. Just make sure McCree doesn't see you," Jimmy warned. Tom McCree would be pissed if he saw Coop loitering around instead of immediately starting their patrol._

_"Roger, sir!" Coop flashed Jimmy a sharp salute and a cocky grin._

_Five minutes later, Coop appeared in the patrol car parking lot. The two cups of black chicory coffee Coop had just slurped down had sat brewing half the night and been stronger than usual. Coop already felt livelier and tried to put the previous night's visions of blood and screams behind him._

_"There you are!" Jimmy exclaimed. "Was just about to send a search party for you! I got the car set up. Get in, I'll drive."  
_

_Coop glared at Jimmy. "Screw that, Jimmy! Ya know you drive like a little old lady! I'm driving! End of argument!" Coop knew he was being an asshole, but so exhausted he didn't give a damn._

_Jimmy looked down. Coop already being in a foul mood and short-tempered didn't bode well for the rest of their shift. Jimmy decided it best to appease Coop and ride shotgun without further argument. Jimmy began sweating as the warm air engulfed him._

_Wordlessly, Coop got into the patrol car, slamming the door shut and putting the car into gear without bothering to put on his seatbelt. He tried to think of things to make conversation with Jimmy. But despite the two cups of coffee, Coop's brain remained muddled and he just couldn't formulate any coherent sentences._

_The majority of the shift passed quickly as Coop and Jimmy drove around North Philly, their day oddly trouble free. After their 1pm lunch at the Milton Burger Joint, complete with several more cups of coffee, Coop finally felt alert._

_"Jimmy," said Coop as they headed back into North Philly. "I'm sorry for being such an ass earlier. I hardly got any sleep last night and I took it out on you. I was outta line."_

_Jimmy looked at Coop and grinned. "No problem, Coop. Forget about it. We can talk about it later. You still coming over tonight?"_

_Coop shot Jimmy a cocky smirk. "Of course! Haven't got anything better to do." Truth was there was nothing else Coop looked more forward to these days than spending time alone with Jimmy, even if that meant reawakening desires he had suppressed over the past four years._

_"Really, what sort of better thing have you got to do, Coop?" Jimmy asked with a loud chuckle. "Something like goin' out to Queen's Village, goin' into The Hush Room and finding yourself a hot drag queen?"_

_Coop's face tightened, angry cracks forming across his forehead. "Shut the fuck up, Jimmy! Don't ever mention Queen's Village to me!" he yelled. Coop knew Jimmy was only joking and had had no clue of Coop's true sexual orientation. But the fact remained that Coop still hated the slurs and being reminded of anything that had to do with with the hangout Danny Holtz had once frequented._

_Jimmy's felt a cold chill seep through his body. "Hell, Coop! I was just joking!" Jimmy stammered. Jimmy never felt right making slurs towards homosexuals and drag queens. Jimmy knew full well that if society were different he would be joining those he bashed in drunken camaraderie at The Hush Room. But the world was as it was and Jimmy had quickly learned as a teenager to hide his attraction towards men._

_"Fine! Just don't ya ever say shit like that to me again! I ain't no queer!" Coop yelled, hating himself more intensely as each word passed through his lips. But Coop what would happen if Jimmy guess the real truth. There was no place on the police force or in society for men suspected of being queer. That horrible truth had been illustrated to Coop during his last baseball season at Penn. After word got out that his friend Danny hung out at The Hush Room, a queer bar in Queen's Village, the the team had quickly ostracized Danny. Heartbroken at the way his once close teammates had begun treating him, Danny had quit the team, not long before he was beaten up outside The Hush Room and left to die alone in a filthy alley._

_Coop felt each time that he denied was a savage insult to Danny's memory. While Coop had put up a strong bravado when discussing being queer with Danny, he had refused to act upon it. Danny had been the opposite, refusing to let fear get in the path of true love.  
_

_Coop wanted nothing than to honour Danny by finally admitting the truth about himself to_ somebody. _But with the face of hate so close and menacing, there was no way in hell he could._


	10. The Maverick

_Jimmy looked at the dashboard in stunned silence._

_Furious Jimmy had been the catalyst to let memories of Danny Holtz creep into his mind, Coop continued to glare hard at Jimmy as he bellowed, "I swear to God that if you ever call me a fairy again I will beat the shit out of you, Jimmy!"_

_"I never said you were a fairy!" said Jimmy, giving Coop a hard stare. "It was only a joke! Don't get so hot and bothered!"_

_"Fine." Coop sighed as they neared the street they planned to stake out for drug dealing, his fury sinking as quickly as it had risen. "Just forget it," said Coop in a low voice._

What the hell is he doing backing down? _"You sure we're cool, man?"_

_Coop turned to Jimmy and grinned. "Course we are." The words felt hollow. Joke or not, what Jimmy had said still stung. "Anyways, let's park here. There's always drug dealing happening by that warehouse. We got us some bad guys to catch." Coop almost laughed. He had once been unable to even lie about stealing sweets from his grandmother's candy dish. Now it came to him easier than wanting to smash scumbags across the face with his baton._

_"Got that right, partner." Relieved Coop was acting more himself, Jimmy smiled as they parked around the corner from the offending warehouse. The once vibrant area had been in decline for several decades and urban blight was an established feature of the neighbourhood._

_Around the corner from where Jimmy and Coop parked, Murphy was seated alone in his own parked red and white patrol car and he began rolling down his window. He confirmed his initial suspicions: Teddy Burke, one of the biggest drugs dealers of North Philly's heroin trade, had pulled up to the warehouse. Leaning against his red Oldsmobile Cutlass, Burke was a stocky, black haired man who had a fondness for wearing ugly brown leather jackets. But Murphy didn't care about Burke as he waited until he could arrest some other drug dealer. Though he hated Burke, Murphy knew his job would be in jeopardy if he so much as confronted the man.  
_

* * *

_For over a year, McCree had been accepting protection money from Burke, with the understanding Burke wouldn't be arrested in exchange. McCree had then spread the money around to the cops in his precinct and ordered them to stay away from Teddy Burke._

_Initially, Murphy had been aghast when McCree had ordered him to never arrest Burke, but he had come to accept it when McCree told him, "We arrest one scumbag like Burke, we'll just have another one like him pop up next week. I might as well tax him and take care of my men." Since that little conversation, Murphy had accepted a weekly fifty dollar payment from McCree and had come to admit to himself that the extra money had come in handy.  
_

* * *

_Positioned around the corner from Murphy, Jimmy and Coop also spotted Teddy Burke, but knew they couldn't arrest the man for loitering on a public street. They prepared themselves to wait. Though Jimmy and Coop had been in the 5th District precinct for a year, neither had been directly commanded never to arrest Teddy Burke. However, Jimmy had his reservations. But after his last furious conversation with Coop, Jimmy was reluctant to express his doubts to his partner.  
_

_Their patience was quickly rewarded. Burke smirked as a striking, thin blonde in a tight fitting striped blouse and mini-skirt strode over to him, desperate for her next fix. She dropped several ratty bills into Burke's hand and Burke clasped her hand around a single brown heroin rock._

_"Okay, Jimmy!" declared Coop. "We're moving in!" as he put the car into drive and flicked on the siren, excitement crowding out his fatigue and moodiness._

_Both the blonde and Burke looked up when they heard the siren. Both were shocked when the police cruiser came from around the corner and parked a short distance away from them. The blonde jumped away from Burke.  
_

_A short distance up the road, Murphy stared out at the scene unfolding in surprise._

_Jimmy and Coop got out of their car with broad grins. Coop clutched his nightstick in his hands as he approached Burke and the blonde, asking, "Now, what is a fine looking lady like you doing in a dump like this?"_

_Jimmy grinned. It never ceased to impress him how Coop could turn the charm on when he was with women._

_The blonde gave Coop a shrugging smile before taking off down the road as fast as her high heels would let her._

_Glancing at the blond woman's retreating figure, Jimmy said ruefully, "They always run away from me."_

_Grinning at Jimmy, Coop suggested, "Maybe it's your shiny personality, huh?" Turning to face Burke, Coop asked, "What're you doing?"_

_Burke smirked at Coop and Jimmy. "Selling ice cream."_

_"Yeah?" asked Coop with a patronizing grin._

_"Yeah," replied Burke jovially. "What are you doing?"_

_"Ah," said Coop, looking around. "Let me see…" as he gripped his baton firmly in his right hand and swung it hard so it landed right below Burke's right kneecap._

_"You son of a bitch!" Burke sputtered, clutching his shin and stumbling in pain. "Don't you know who I am?"_

_"A drug dealer in an ugly leather jacket. Am I getting close?" Coop shot back._

_"You're making a big mistake!" Burke roared as he stood up._

_"Shut up!" Jimmy barked._

_Satisfied Burke was subdued, Coop strode over to the open passenger window of Burke's Oldsmobile, remarking, "Whoa!" as he retrieved a heavy yellow brick of heroin. He smiled as he strolled over to Burke._

_"There's ways to get a piece, officer," Burke pleaded, a nervous grin plastered across his face. "That ain't one."_

_Coop wasn't touched. "Cuff him, Jimmy!"_

_Jimmy responded instantly, twisting Burke around and throwing him onto the trunk of the Oldsmobile._

_"Why are you bringing me in? This won't stick!" declared Burke in disbelief as Jimmy handcuffed him._

_Murphy looked on with shock. He had come to learn Coop was a maverick who had his own style when it came to enforcing the law and was also someone who didn't shy away from confrontation._ But how the fuck can you be this stupid, Coop?

_Coop lifted up part of Burke's leather jacket with his baton and pointed to the buildings behind him. "It's your jacket, it clashes with the neighbourhood."_

_"Urban blight, Burke. It's in all the papers." Jimmy grinned, tightening the cuffs around Burke's wrists._

_Burke groaned in pain as the cuffs dug painfully into his bones. "Mark my words!" he spat as Jimmy began steering him towards the patrol car, "I'm going to last a lot longer on these streets than you!" as he tried to glare at both Coop and Jimmy._

_Reaching the car, Jimmy released Burke so Coop could push him into the patrol car. Coop pushed hard, making Burke's forehead smash into the roof of the car. "Watch your head!" Coop called as Burke began moaning, trying to rub his head. Satisfied, Coop looked at Jimmy._

_Jimmy smiled back, adjusting his gunbelt._

* * *

_The short ride back to the station was filled with groans and complaints as Burke continued to scream that Jimmy and Coop wouldn't get away with arresting him. They were relieved to get back to the station, pushing Burke in front of them._

* * *

_Unlike Jimmy and Coop, many other officers in their precinct had had more eventful patrols. As a consequence, the booking office was backed up after they had finished interrogating Burke. Resigned to more waiting, Jimmy cuffed Burke to a hard, polished wooden bench as he and Coop leaned against the glass windows of McCree's office._

_Glancing at Burke with satisfaction, Coop turned his attention to Jimmy. "Eileen home tonight?" he asked._

_Jimmy smirked. "You loving my wife, Coop?"_

_Coop grinned and looked away. "Just her cooking." Eileen Bruno made the best lasagna and cheesesteaks he had ever tasted. Coop's smile became larger as he saw Burke struggling against his bonds._

_Jimmy turned to Coop. "She's taking the kids to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang."_

_"Aw, too bad," said Coop, turning to Jimmy. "That means we gotta drink and watch TV all night with no one nagging us." Coop was elated that there would now be a far less chance of Eileen reining in their drinking.  
_

_"Damn shame." said Jimmy, nodding in agreement._

_"Mm-hmm," murmured Coop, shaking his head as his and Jimmy's attention turned to Owen Murphy hauling up the stairs a man dressed in drag._

_"No, you may NOT use the lady's room!" Murphy snarled at the drag queen. Looking at Jimmy, Murphy asked, "We're allowed to beat up queers for information, right, Jimmy?"_

_"Your bust, your call!" called Jimmy as Murphy began heading towards an interrogation room._

_Coop snickered and looked away. He hoped Jimmy wouldn't be reminded about their earlier conversation over Queen's Village._

_Suddenly, McCree emerged from his office. "Inside!" McCree ordered, glaring irritably at Jimmy and Coop._

_Puzzled over what they might have done, Jimmy followed Coop into McCree's office._

_Burke began laughing from the bench. He and McCree were well acquainted._

_McCree got straight to the point as he began pacing his office with crossed arms. "Am I on LSD or is that Teddy Burke out there?"_

_"You take LSD, boss?" asked Coop in wonder. The timing of the jab was simply too perfect to resist.  
_

_"Damn it, Cooper! Save the wiseass remarks!" said McCree crossly. "Why'd you guys bring him in?"_

_Jimmy looked surprised. "He was selling smack on a corner!"_

_"And which one of you came to me for the okay?" asked McCree._

_Coop scoffed in disbelief. "We gotta get permission?"_

_"Don't play dumb," said McCree, shaking his head at Coop._

_Coop became serious. "Lieutenant, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't the Crimes Codes say that possession of drugs is illegal?"_

_Ignoring Coop, McCree faced Jimmy and sighed. "Are you going to get this jackass under control?"_

_Jimmy swallowed and began nodding his head as he snuck a sideways glance at Coop. "I'll make sure we get clearance on all politically sensitive suspects."_ I KNEW this would get us in trouble! _  
_

_"Screw that!" snapped Coop, glaring at Jimmy before looking at McCree. "Jimmy and I've been together a year. We've had more busts, seen more convictions than any other team!"_

_"Your point?" asked McCree.  
_

_Coop let out a small chuckle. "Point is, Captain appreciates our work. You think he knows you're such good pals with Teddy Burke?"_

_McCree smiled at Coop. "Do not try to go over my head, Cooper, you'll regret it," said McCree in a cold voice. Turning away from Jimmy and Coop he ordered, "Now scram."_

_Jimmy began heading for the door, but Coop remained where he stood. "What about Burke?" asked Coop, his lips forming into a tight line.  
_

_Hands on his hips, McCree turned to Jimmy and Coop in bewilderment. "What, Teddy Burke? Was he busted today?"_

_Coop's face clouded, but Jimmy pulled him towards the door before Coop could say or do something to get himself fired.  
_

_Jimmy and Coop re-entered the main hall in time to see another officer directing an unshackled Teddy Burke to the stairs. Burke smirked at Coop and Jimmy before he began heading down the stairs, turning back halfway down to flash them a large smile and a wave._

_As they watched Burke disappear, Jimmy felt uneasy when he saw how angry Coop still looked. He hoped Coop would just put the incident behind him. Jimmy didn't agree with what had happened, but there was no way he could risk his job when he had a pregnant wife and two kids to provide for._

_Glancing at his watch, Jimmy told Coop, "Coop, it's almost 6 pm. Let's go punch out and get out of here. Think you can make it to my place by seven?"_

_"Sure," Coop replied evenly. But inside he was still smouldering. Coop was becoming as disillusioned with policing as he had become with baseball and the army._ Here to put the scumbags away? Only if they can't pay someone off!

_As if sensing Coop was close to his boiling point, Jimmy didn't badger him as they headed to the locker room. It didn't take long for Coop to strip off his work shirt and gunbelt and retrieve his wallet. "I'm gonna head home. Gonna feed the cat and get changed. I'll bring some beer for tonight. You got the whisky, right?" Coop asked._

_"Yeah, picked some up last night," Jimmy replied, stripping down to his boxers and undershirt for a quick shower and heading for the towel rack. He was surprised Coop had let the fact he had a cat slip out to the whole changing room. "See you soon, Coop?" Jimmy asked._

_Coop smiled. "Sure," he replied, giving Jimmy a quick wave._

_Jimmy felt uneasy as he watched Coop leave. Something inside Coop had come unhinged after that encounter with McCree and Jimmy could only hope it wouldn't cause a disastrous evening._


	11. The Kiss

_Though it wasn't his style to speed within city limits off duty, Coop raced his red 1955 T-Bird home. He was angry over what had transpired the day over Teddy Burke. Coop knew his attitude towards top drug dealers like Burke put him at odds with the rest of the cops in his precinct. Even Jimmy had started accepting dirty money when he had found out Eileen was pregnant. However, until now, Coop hadn't known that the money Jimmy had been pocketing had originated from Burke. And it infuriated him McCree could get away with pulling shit like that right under Captain Alfred Stinson's nose._

_Christ, Jimmy, Coop thought as he neared his house._ I get things are tight with three kids, but how can you justify taking dirty money from scumbags like McCree and Burke? It just ain't right!

_Annoyed there were some things he couldn't change, Coop parked the car in his driveway angrily. He stomped to the front step and grabbed the heavy milk bottle and its spoiled contents with distaste. Fumbling with the doorknob, Coop at last twisted it open and slammed the door so hard Robin ran for cover under Coop's bed._

_Scowling, Coop poured the rotten milk down the sink and rinsed out the bottle. When he finished, Coop put the milk bottle back outside for tomorrow's collection. He was uncertain if he would be making it home by tomorrow morning. Coop then hastily poured Robin's dinner and changed his water. He flung the dishes down so hard they and the newspaper almost went flying into the glass door as they briefly skidded against the checkered linoleum floor. Coop toyed with the idea of making something quick to eat, but his churning stomach rebelled against it and Coop decided to wait for the upcoming boozefest to dampen his rage.  
_

_Heading into his bedroom, Coop flung his T-shirt off and threw it onto his bed in a heap. Coop was about to remove his belt and pull off his pants when he noticed the exhausted looking figure staring back at him from the mirror opposite the foot of the bed._

_"Jesus Christ, last night must have been bad," Coop said aloud. Coop failed to recall exactly what it was he had dreamt about. But he hadn't been able to get back to sleep after this one and had crept of bed to the den when he had gathered his wits. Coop had ended up reading War and Peace for so long that he had only had time to have a quick shower and get dressed before scrambling off to work and combing his hair on the drive over._

_Fatigue tugging at his eyes, Coop laid down on his bed for a few minutes as he began to sort through the day's events. He was still pissed off Jimmy hadn't backed him up in front of McCree._ I thought you were a better person than that, Jimmy. _Coop sighed and felt rotten for being mad at Jimmy. No human being was perfect, but Jimmy Bruno came close in Coop's mind. Quiet, polite, and hard-working, Jimmy had earned Coop's respect early on in their partnership. Though so many things made them opposites, their personalities meshed them together into effective police officers. Coop's daring encouraged Jimmy to act in situations he was fearful of whilst Jimmy's thoughtful calm helped save Coop from making dozens of rash choices. The Dynamic Duo, indeed, Coop thought._

_Coop blushed. He couldn't mark when his feelings for Jimmy had crossed the line from friendship to crush, though Coop supposed it was around the time Jimmy had found out about his secret hobby. Aside from Danny Holtz and the writing assignments he had been required to turn in, Coop had never shared his writing with anyone else. Coop had hoped one of the many girls he had dated would end up being the connection he sought. and it now seemed bitterly ironic that the connection had finally come in the form of a handsome man with piercing blue eyes and dark brown hair whom just happened to be married with kids._

_If you do exist, God, you sure had a twisted sense of humour when you made me, Coop thought as he hopped off the bed and began stripping for his shower. His anger rising, Coop flung his clothes against his bedroom wall and stormed into the bathroom._

* * *

_Thirty minutes later, Coop pulled on a clean white T-shirt over his favourite pair of blue jeans and strapped his watch to his wrist. The cold shower had calmed Coop and cleared his thoughts. Coop went back into the sea green bathroom to re-oil his hair. Coop hated the colour of the bathroom, but had decided to put up with it when the other house within his price range had had a bathroom that contained bright pink fixtures accented by bright floral wallpaper._

_Glancing at his watch, Coop decided not to bother with his hair other than a quick comb. Coop grinned as he headed into the cellar for the case of beer he had bought the night before, but had been too tired to delve into. Saturday was to be a day off and Coop was looking forward to a night of heavy drinking that would lead to his first good night's sleep in almost four days. Hanging out with Jimmy would simply make a good night greater._

* * *

_Coop arrived at Jimmy's house in record time and snatched a free parking spot across the road. A case of Ballantine Ales in hand, Coop ambled up the front stoop and knocked on Jimmy's white door. Jimmy's house reminded him of the idyllic American dream that had been pitched towards him in high school. Two stories and painted yellow, the house came complete with a white picket fence surrounding the tiny, well-kept front yard._

_Jimmy felt relief when he opened the door and saw Coop smiling. Since leaving the station, guilt had swirled in Jimmy's mind about the course the day had taken and he had been nervous about being with Coop again. Examining Coop, Jimmy felt overdressed; his neatly tucked green polo shirt and pressed beige chinos seemed formal compared to Coop's jeans and T-shirt._

_"Hey, Coop," Jimmy greeted. "Ready for some good whiskey?"_

_"Sure, if you think you can keep up with me, lightweight," Coop countered._

_"Of course I can! Anyways, Coop, I hope you don't mind if we skip the watching TV tonight. The house is hot as hell, so I figured we could just head into the backyard and relax. You eat yet?"_

_"Nah," Coop answered, suddenly feeling starved._

_Jimmy grinned. "Good, 'cos I made hot dogs and they're in the kitchen ready to go," he said, hopeful Coop's favourite food would further smooth things between them._

_"What're we waiting for then, partner?" asked Coop, rushing past Jimmy as the smell of sizzling hot dogs made his mouth water._

* * *

_"Well, you sure know how to make a man happy, Jimmy" remarked Coop twenty minutes later, five hot dogs with all the fixings and his first two beers behind him as he leaned back in his wooden chair. Coop glanced admirably at Eileen's collection of fine china._

_"Ya know I'm good with the grill," said Jimmy. He was awed by the sheer quantity of food Coop had downed and was embarrassed that his first beer was still nearly full. "Anyway, let's get into the backyard. I'll be out there once I get all this crap put away."_

_Coop rose. "Sounds good to me." Though two beers were nothing, they had made him feel more relaxed. "You wanna hand?" asked Coop._

_"Nah, that's fine, Coop. Why don't you set up the chairs and the table? Oh, and grab the lantern from the garage. It'll be dark soon."_

_"Sure, Jimmy," replied Coop. At long last they were done with the formalities and could just talk._

* * *

_The sun had set and the stagnant air of day had been replaced by a refreshing breeze from the Schuylkill River. Jimmy's backyard was pitch black, except for the yellow lantern that shone softly from the top of the small wooden table Jimmy and Coop had tossed their beer cans upon._

_Jimmy leaned against the plastic ribbed back of his garden chair, closing his eyes to ease his swirling head._ Fuck, why the hell do I always try to keep up with Coop? The man is a tank! _  
_

_Looking at Jimmy, Coop smirked from his chair and shook his head. Each time he and Jimmy drank together was the same. Jimmy would nurse his first drink for the first hour until Coop urged Jimmy to slow down. Tonight, the spur had caused Jimmy to drink the last three beers from Coop's case in rapid succession and Coop was now getting a kick out of watching Jimmy sitting dizzily in his chair. After eight beers, Coop still felt fine and didn't have a second thought as he cracked open the whiskey and began slugging it back._

_"The hell, Coop!" Jimmy cried when he opened his eyes and noticed the whiskey bottle already half empty. "Leave some for me! I bought it and you drank most of the beer!"_

_Coop shot Jimmy a mocking look. "Come on Dad, you're done for the night."_

_"The hell I am!" Jimmy slurred, lunging for the bottle. Jimmy missed the bottle by several inches and almost fell onto the grass face first._

_"Fine, Jimmy. Here, we'll take," said Coop with an arrogant smirk. Handing the bottle to Jimmy, Coop leaned back in contentment. He and Jimmy hadn't talked much, but it didn't matter. It had just been good to spend time with each other that hadn't revolved around work or arguments._

_As if on cue, Jimmy spoke, his voice thick and heavy. "Why you gotta piss Teddy Burke off like that?" he asked, handing the whiskey bottle back to Coop. As soon as he said those words, Jimmy regretted it._ But fuck, we gotta talk about it at some point!

_Coop groaned, annoyed Jimmy would bring this up now. "Are you afraid of that scumbag?"  
_

_"It ain't about fear. You know what it's about."_

_Coop sighed. "What's it about, Jimmy?"_

_"Keeping my job. I ain't going against McCree," Jimmy declared._

_"So that makes it alright to be on the take? Hmm?" Coop slurred, the whiskey beginning to take effect as he took a long swig. Disgusted, Coop handed the whiskey back to Jimmy._

_Jimmy glanced at Coop with heavy lids, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Everything's always black and white with you. You don't know anything," Jimmy said, shaking his head as he took another swig of whiskey._

_Shaking his own head, Coop exclaimed, "We're cops, that's all I need to know!"_

_"I got three kids!" Jimmy said thickly. When you have a family to support, Coop, maybe you'll understand, Jimmy thought._

_Snorting, Coop took the whiskey bottle from Jimmy._

_"Don't talk to me about taking fifty bucks a week from a piece of crap!" Jimmy yelled, glaring at Coop, his blue eyes flashing like quicksilver._

_"Then you are just like McCree!" hissed Coop, pointing at Jimmy before prepping to take another sip of whiskey._

_"Get off your soapbox, Coop!" Jimmy shouted. "You go out there and bust shins 'cos it's another good time for you!"_

_Coop lowered the bottle from his mouth and turned to glare at Jimmy. "I bust shins because I am enforcing the law!" yelled Coop._ I don't have a good time hitting people, Jimmy. But you gotta do what you gotta do when talking doesn't exactly with the types of people we gotta deal with.

_"You and your John Wayne act," mocked Jimmy._

_Coop's patience began to thin, disgusted that his own partner didn't realize cops had to lead by example. He gave Jimmy another hard glare as he declared, "We're the law! We're here to put the scumbags away! It ain't fun and games!" Annoyed, Coop's gaze became fixated upon Adam's bike lying entangled on top of some hydrangea bushes._

_"Sure it is!" yelled Jimmy. "Just like the fun you had slaughtering Vietcong!"_

_Coop turned his head and his eyes widened as he glanced at Jimmy with stunned disbelief._

_"You miss that free pass to kill, don't you?" Jimmy taunted, a sneer across his face._

_Coop's face contorted in anger, dropping the whiskey bottle as he leapt to his feet. Coop knocked Jimmy hard in the left eye with his left wrist and cracked the glass face of his watch. Coop hit Jimmy with such force that Jimmy and his chair went flying backwards. As Jimmy struggled to get up, Coop got down on one knee and gave Jimmy's left eye a hard punch with his right hand. Coop was thankful years of pitching had given that arm extra muscle._

_"You're right! That was fun!" Coop growled in a low voice as he got up. His knuckles were skinned, but Coop welcomed the pain. How many times since December had he told Jimmy that Vietnam had been hell for him and that he'd erase the past if he had a chance? The sting of Jimmy's earlier actions were nothing compared to this; it seared Coop that Jimmy would bring up the worst experience of his life so cruelly._

_"Go to hell!" Jimmy sputtered, at last struggling to his feet and throwing himself on Coop. The two began to struggle like two street urchins in a brawl._

_Coop threw Jimmy off him and the two glowered at each other, breathing heavily. As he continued to glare, Coop's frustrations with Jimmy grew stronger. For four years after Danny's murder, he had tried to suppress his attraction to men, terrified he might meet the same fate. But Jimmy kept acting in ways that only attracted Coop to the other man more. Months of dating and having one night stands with an endless stream of women had resulted in nothing close to the relationship Coop and Jimmy had forged together as partners and friends._

_Though furious with Jimmy for the Vietcong crack, Coop couldn't fight his desires any longer. Coop lunged at Jimmy, gripping the back of his head and forcing his lips on Jimmy's. Jimmy's soft lips felt like burning fire against his trembling ones._

_Shocked, Jimmy sputtered and pushed Coop off him and gaped at him in confusion.  
_

_Unable to believe what he had just done, Coop's gaze drifted away from Jimmy and he stared hard at the grass. Coop's heart pounded as he waited for the shouts of "Faggot!" to drown out the soft chirps of crickets._

_Jimmy's confusion quickly left. The terrified glint he spotted in Coop's eyes made the truth clear: Coop was a homosexual just like he was. As Jimmy struggled to figure out his next move, he was desperate to do something that would erase the horrible words that had escaped from his mouth.  
_

_As Jimmy remained silent, Coop forced himself to make eye contact with Jimmy. Coop was stunned to see that Jimmy's eyes didn't contain disgust, but instead displayed a deep sense of longing._

_Jimmy slowly walked forward and gently gripped the back of Coop's head, pulling him forward into a soft, passionate kiss before embracing him._

_Not able to believe the twist things had taken, Coop returned Jimmy's hug, letting his arms wander over Jimmy's back._

_Kissing until they were out of breath, Coop at last removed his lips from Jimmy's. Not wanting to let the other man go, Coop rested his head on Jimmy's shoulder and hugged him tightly as they remained motionless in the quiet backyard. The silence was only pierced when Coop began to cry.  
_

_"You okay, Coop?" Jimmy asked in alarm as Coop's tears began soaking through his shirt._

Fuck! _Even when his best platoon mate had been shot dead mere feet from him, Coop had remained stoic."How could you say that stuff about the Vietcong, Jimmy?" Coop gasped as he dug his fingernails into Jimmy's back. "I fucking hate what I did over there! But I didn't have a choice! You got no idea what it's like to have to kill someone before they kill you. Hell, I hope you never do!" Coop took a deep breath, trying to suppress the sobs that insisted on lurching out his throat.  
_

_"I'm sorry, Coop," Jimmy whispered as he held Coop's quaking body. "I didn't mean it. I was mad and let my fucking mouth run ahead of my brain. I know Vietnam wasn't fun for you."_

_"Let's just forget it," Coop said in one last shuddering sob, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment for having lost control of his emotions. Though he was calming down, Coop dug his nails deeper into Jimmy's back. Coop was afraid that if he let go of Jimmy that he would topple over._

_"Shhh, it's okay Coop," Jimmy whispered. "It's gonna be okay." Jimmy held Coop tight and he was relieved as Coop's ragged breathing became more regular and his body quit trembling. When the pain from Coop's shaking fingers became worse than the throbbing from his eye, Jimmy reluctantly asked Coop to let go of him. As they parted and stood several feet apart, Jimmy saw Coop's face still glistening with tears. Reaching into his pocket, Jimmy took his handkerchief and wiped Coop's face dry without a word._

_When Jimmy finished, a pale-faced Coop looked at Jimmy with bloodshot, wide eyes. "Fuck, Jimmy. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I swear to God I'm not a homo. I'm not a queer, I…" Coop said in a rush of panic as he lost his breath._

_Jimmy straightened his tousled hair and untucked shirt as he looked at Coop calmly. The numbing effects of the alcohol were at last beginning to work their magic. "You ain't supposed to be afraid of anything, Coop. I'm the chicken, remember?" Jimmy reminded Coop, putting a hand on his shoulder._

_Coop let out a slight, sardonic chuckle. "Yeah, I know. Funny how much of a farce everything is," Coop mused aloud. Coop ducked his head.  
_

_Though he didn't understand some of the obscure words Coop was given to using when he was emotional, Jimmy never let on. His eyes brimming with curiosity, Jimmy asked Coop, "How long have you known?"_

_"Known what?" Coop asked cautiously, taking a half step away from Jimmy._

_"How long've...you known you're, uh…" Jimmy stammered._

_"How long've I known I'm a queer?" supplied Coop bitterly. "Since I was thirteen or fourteen, I guess. I've not really kept track. It ain't exactly something I'm proud of, ya know."_

_"I know, Coop," Jimmy whispered. "Hell, I've known since I was sixteen I was…well...liked other guys, but I guess figured I could just hide it. That if I just avoided it long enough and got married, it would disappear. Hasn't exactly worked out that way."_

_Coop looked down as Jimmy's words echoed his sentiments exactly. "You're right, Jimmy," Coop muttered. "It doesn't go away."_

_Jimmy began to shiver and he slipped his hand into Coop's. Grateful, Coop returned the squeeze._

_"Anyways, it's freezing out here. Let's get inside; don't worry about the chairs and table, I'll get them in the morning. We better just get the beer cans so Eileen doesn't yell at me tomorrow."  
_

_"Alright, Jimmy," said Coop, nodding in agreement. Looking at Jimmy's wavering stance, Coop began throwing the crushed beer cans back in their case and picked up the dumped whiskey bottle._

_Once Coop had gathered everything up, Jimmy grabbed the lantern and Jimmy walked behind Coop into the house._

_Entering the white-washed kitchen with yellow floral curtains, Jimmy took the bottle and beer case from Coop and took them out to the garage with the lantern. Watching Jimmy leaning against the walls for balance gave Coop a laugh. Once Jimmy was outside, Coop stole to the bathroom and used the opportunity to relieve his screaming bladder and splash cold water on his sweaty face._

_When he finished, Coop returned to the kitchen and sleepiness hit him so hard he could barely stand. Coop took a seat at the light-brown wooden table in the far corner of the room, folding his arms and resting his head between them._

* * *

_His errand to the garage completed, Jimmy headed back into the house. Jimmy decided to stop at the bathroom to check out his eye. Jimmy groaned when he realized he was going to have a huge black eye and he wondered just how he would explain it to Eileen and the guys at work. Deciding to worry about it in the morning, Jimmy headed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen._

_Jimmy sighed as he spotted Coop half asleep at the table._ Christ, he's in no shape to get home on his own. But the stubborn bastard will never ask if he can stay over. _"Coop..." Jimmy began as he walked up to the table._

_"Yeah, Jimmy?" Coop asked, raising his head and struggling to keep his eyes open._

_"Was thinking that you've had a ton to drink. You best stay here tonight," said Jimmy._

_"I'm fine, Jimmy," said Coop, forcing himself upright and leaning against the table for balance._

_"Well, I ain't lettin' you drive home drunk," Jimmy declared. "You're staying here."_

_"Fuck, Jimmy! Ya know I don't drive drunk!" Coop mumbled irritably as he continued to fight off sleep. "Hell, I can walk home. It's only a mile," Coop told Jimmy, though Coop figured he'd collapse before making it to the end of Jimmy's block._

_"Coop, quit being stupid," said Jimmy, rolling his eyes._

_Coop groaned and began rubbing his eyes. "Jimmy, you don't got anywhere I can sleep anyway, so just forget it." Jimmy's guest room was in the process of being turned into a nursery for the new baby._

_Jimmy took a deep breath. "Coop, I already got it figured it out. I'll grab you a pillow and a blanket and you can crash in the living room. We got a couch, ya know."_

_"Fine, Jimmy." Coop sighed, too tired to argue any further. Leaving the kitchen, Coop seated himself on the couch in the living room across the hall from the kitchen._

_"Wait there," Jimmy called to Coop as he headed upstairs, his gait still tipsy._

_Sinking into the floral upholstery, Coop rested his head against the diamond-patterned wallpaper, closing his eyes for just a minute while he awaited Jimmy's return._

_Jimmy crept upstairs slowly, trying his best not to awake Eileen or the kids. Straining in the dark, Jimmy at last located a pillow and blanket in the linen closet._

_When Jimmy returned to the living room, he found Coop sound asleep and snoring, a small smile on his face._

Poor guy must of been dead on his feet today. _Jimmy sighed, placing the blanket and pillow on the floor as he lifted Coop's feet and removed his brown loafers. Placing the pillow on the armrest, Jimmy slowly moved Coop's limp body downward, carefully resting Coop's head on the pillow before moving his legs onto the couch._

_At least you'll get a good night's sleep tonight, Coop, Jimmy had thought as he had covered Coop with the blanket. As Coop continued to snore, Jimmy had brushed back the lock of hair that had dropped over Coop's forehead. Kissing Coop's forehead gently before putting out the light, Jimmy had whispered, "Night partner, I'll see you in the morning."_

* * *

A bright streetlight caused Jimmy's fond recollection to dissolve into a haze. "We near Penn General yet, Joe?" Jimmy asked as he remembered where he really was.

"Yeah, 'bout ten more minutes I reckon," Joe said, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Okay, I'm gonna rest my eyes for a bit. Tell me when we're there," Jimmy murmured, fatigue winning. Within thirty seconds, Jimmy was sound asleep and his hand relaxed, causing the blood stained towel to drop to his lap. Jimmy twitched in his sleep as his guilt continued to torture him.


	12. The Curse of Lovers and Dead Friends

Opening his eyes, Coop smiled as he remembered the warmth of Jimmy's tender kiss on his forehead before sleep had fully engulfed him.

Hoping Coop had forgotten his anger, Robin hopped back up onto his master's lap and quickly laid down without clawing.

Content with Robin for not spearing him this time, Coop scratched Robin under his chin. Checking his watch and realizing he still had a good hour before he had to start getting ready for the wedding, Coop pondered a way to pass the the time. His stomach rumbled, but Coop held fast to his promise not to eat until the wedding reception.

Leaning back, Coop blushed as Jimmy once again crept into his mind. For the first time in his long search, Coop now knew what real love felt like.

* * *

As Jimmy gave a low groan in his sleep, Joe glanced over to make sure his mentor was alright. Seeing Jimmy still asleep, Joe's eyes returned to the road. With a painful jolt, the streets became familiar as Joe entered the old haunts of the neighbourhoods surrounding Pennsylvania General Hospital.

Breathing heavily and sitting motionless, Jimmy appeared to have fled the Earth to be with the man he cherished. His dreams were a rush of all that had happened since the night their partnership had been forever altered: the awkward moments the next workday when he and Coop had looked at each other silently, not speaking of what had happened. The next poker session at Coop's that had quickly turned into watching a movie cuddled up on the couch. And the first time both had admitted the truth about what was forming between them.

* * *

_June's cool nights had given way to the blazing hot days and nights of July, with July 3, 1968 being no exception._

_For the first time that week, Coop and Jimmy only had to work the normal twelve hour shift, 10 am to 10 pm. As they strolled out of the stationhouse and towards their patrol car, both began sweating heavily as soon as the broiling air hit them. Eying Coop's tense shoulders and noting his partner's subdued air, Jimmy was worried. "You okay, Coop?" Jimmy asked as they neared the parking lot._

_"Sure," Coop mumbled._ God, how am I going to bring this up to Jimmy?

Sure, Coop. _But Jimmy let Coop be. When Coop was ready to talk, he would do so._

_Trusty patrol car D108 rested near the gate's entrance, so Jimmy and Coop hadn't far to walk. Jimmy and Coop were the only two police officers in the parking lot and the only people nearby were passersby on the sidewalk who paid Coop and Jimmy no attention._

_Jimmy was about to go around to their patrol car and set up the radio when he noticed Coop leaning against the passenger door of the car opposite. "Coop, you coming?" Jimmy asked._

_Coop sighed and looked down._

_Jimmy began playing with his gunbelt as he waited. Coop was ready to talk, but searching for the words. Seeing Coop's downcast eyes, Jimmy hoped Coop hadn't been tormented by another nightmare. Though only seven years separated them, Jimmy was once again awestruck by how youthful his partner appeared. With his neatly oiled hair, clean shaven face, and a smattering of freckles emerging from the summer sun, Coop seemed more like a high school senior than someone in his mid-twenties._

_Looking up, Coop at last muttered, "I can't go on like this, Jimmy."_

_Puzzled, Jimmy gaped at Coop. "Like what?"_

_Glancing around to make sure nobody was listening, Coop said, "You know what I mean. Making plans day to day, not knowing when I'm going to see you."_

_Jimmy swallowed and gave Coop a wary look. "You see me every day," said Jimmy._ Just what the hell are you getting at, Coop? _  
_

_"That's not what I mean." Coop glanced down at the pavement, looking despondent._

_Jimmy glanced around; he had a feeling where this was headed, but he kept his emotions in check. "Then say what you mean," ordered Jimmy quietly, leaning against the door of his patrol car to ease his dizziness._

_Coop raised his eyes and stared hard at Jimmy before stating, "We got something here. And it ain't going away."_

Fuck! _Shaking his head, Jimmy said, "I got a family."_

_Coop appraised Jimmy. "Do you think Eileen wants to be married to a stranger? You think if she knew, she'd want to keep living a lie?" Guilt pricked at Coop when he realized the heavy choice he was asking Jimmy to make._

_"I ain't leaving my kids, Coop!" Jimmy declared. You're not tied down to anyone, Coop; you got no responsibilities to anyone except you. This is so fucking easy for you to say, thought Jimmy bitterly with a grimace across his face._

_Coop sighed and looked away from Jimmy. "Not asking for that."_

_"What then?" Jimmy shot back._

_"Remember what you were talking about, living a different kind of life?" Coop asked._

_Jimmy's head bobbed back and forth as a slow blush began to creep into his cheeks._

_"This is our shot," Coop appealed to Jimmy, his blue eyes widening._

_"That was just talk. We're cursed with this thing!" said Jimmy, almost spitting the words, angry God had thrust a test upon him that was impossible to resist._

_Coop looked down. But only for a moment before he levelled his cynical gaze with Jimmy. "My folks, been married forever, right? But whatever they had died years ago!"_

_Coop's fiery eyes burning him, Jimmy hoped staring at the cracked asphalt would offer relief from the feelings he had been trying to douse for weeks._

_Coop wasn't deterred. "Now I look around and I see everyone like that! Staying together 'cos of the Church. Or 'cos it's expected. Or 'cos they got nowhere else to go. Cursed?" Coop asked, saying the last word softly._

_Jimmy swallowed and raised his head._

_Coop shook his head slowly at Jimmy. "We're the lucky ones, Jimmy," Coop declared, feeling empowered that the self-loathing that had haunted him for almost half of his life had finally died.  
_

_Jimmy looked up at the clear blue sky. "I don't know," he said._

_Looping his index fingers and thumbs into his gunbelt, Coop glimpsed at Jimmy and asked a simple question: "You sure about that?" He glanced up at Jimmy's dark brown hair, Brylcreemed without a hair out of place, before resting on Jimmy's skittish gaze. Coop could feel those piercing eyes examining his soul._

_Jimmy swallowed hard as he stared at Coop and straightened up, sweat glistening on his face as he shifted his feet. This curse wasn't lucky and there was no way Jimmy could ever believe otherwise. But Jimmy meant it when he whispered: "Guess I don't got a choice."_

_Their hands met briefly and their faces moved in for a kiss, but, remembering in time where they were, Jimmy and Coop parted and headed for the respective sides of their patrol car._

_Neither man had seen Owen Murphy scrunched down in the seat of a patrol car fifteen feet away.  
_

* * *

The bright lights of Penn General flooded into the patrol car as Joe rushed for the closest available space near the emergency room. Once the car was still, Joe looked over at Jimmy. Still asleep, Jimmy's mouth had worked its way open, drool and blood from his lip forming a pale pink river down his chin.

Sighing, Joe took the now dry towel from Jimmy's lap and wiped his chin. Putting the towel back on the cut, Joe hesitated to wake Jimmy up.

* * *

Forgetting the consequences of his past actions, Robin stood up and began clawing Coop's bare legs.

"Off!" Coop screamed, pushing Robin off his lap hard.

Terrified, Robin raced to the kitchen, cowering under the table.

Coop sighed, heading towards the kitchen. The cat's skittish temperament had indicated to Coop from day one that Robin had been mistreated somewhere and Coop knew his short temper was certainly not helping cleanse Robin of painful memories.

Seeing Coop's form, Robin shrank back.

Getting down on his hands and knees, Coop crawled on the linoleum floor. "Slugger, I'm sorry," Coop whispered. "When you picked me as an owner, you got the short end of the stick." Looking away, Coop tried to blink out the piece of grit that seemed to have gotten caught in the corner of one eye.

Robin softly butted his head against Coop's face before turning over on his back.

"Guess I'm lucky you forgive easy," Coop said, rubbing Robin on the belly. Satisfied he and Robin were again on good terms, Coop forgot his brief moodiness and headed back into the living room, pacing around as he tried to think of something to do. Saturday morning cartoons didn't appeal to him and if he went down to the cellar and started doing weights, he was likely to loose all track of time.

Sinking back into his armchair, Coop hated having to miss part of his shift with Jimmy. But Allan was almost a brother to him and Coop had known he couldn't refuse Allan's wedding invitation. While Coop didn't have the life experience and responsibilities Jimmy did, he had experienced things with Allan Jimmy couldn't even comprehend. Both being from Philadelphia had given Coop and Allan an instant bond and the two had remained tight since getting home from Vietnam. Coop had realized quick within his first week back in the city Allan was the only person close to him whom understood how hard it was to readjust to civilian life after two years of becoming an efficient killing machine.

* * *

 _Flash-Bang!_  
Smash-Rip!  
Pain-Dark.  
Dark, dark, DARK.  


* * *

The pitch black night where warm blood had run down Coop's chest from cradling a wounded comrade as he drifted away flashed out of Coop's mind as quickly as it had arisen. Pale and trembling, Coop breathed slow, deep breathes to ease his racing heart. _Why the fuck can't it all just stop?! Fuck, if Pop knew about this, he would have disowned me a lot sooner!_

His burning anger at Serge smoked away the war. His composure regained, Coop walked over to the wooden bookshelf he kept his record albums on before selecting _Rubber Soul_ by the Beatles. Five years ago, when the Beatles had begun making waves in the United States, Coop had dismissed them as serious musicians. Then his girlfriend Brenda had given him _Rubber Soul_ for his twenty-fourth birthday. While Coop had snorted at the record after the party and put it behind all of his other albums, he had ended up listening to it one night when he had tired of Bob Dylan. Now the Beatles were another guilty secret Coop kept to himself.

As the needle scratched the vinyl and "Drive My Car" began filling the room, Coop began the routine that he always did after flashbacks struck him during the daytime: two hundred push ups, followed by two hundred sit ups. Done in rapid succession, the exercise regimen always left Coop's mind focused only on gulping down water.

* * *

Coop's abs bulged with definition as he finished the last sit-up and fell back on the brown shag carpet, breathing rapidly as "Michelle" finished and the record stopped. Sweat ran down his back and chest and soaked his hair. After he caught his breath, Coop wandered into the kitchen and turned on the cold water tap, downing three glasses of water that helped quiet his stomach. Grabbing the dish towel hanging on a hook by the sink, Coop soaked it with cold water and ran it over his steaming face and hung it back up. His thirst quenched, Coop wondered back into the living and flipped the record to side two. Coop knew once the record finished, he would have to pop in the shower and begin dressing for Allan's wedding.

Coop listened listlessly in his armchair until "In My Life" began playing. As the line about dead friends played, Coop felt his mood turn brooding as thoughts of Danny Holtz bubbled up and broke through the seal he thought he capped his memories with. Coop sighed as his throat went dry. With nothing to distract him, Danny was going to haunt him. _Might as well think about the good times._

Coop went to the bookshelf and knelt down on the carpet as he dug up a photo album that contained snapshots of his baseball days. Sitting on his knees, Coop thumbed through the album until he came to the black and white photo of him, Danny, and another player named David Aarons, arms around each others' shoulders as they squinted and grinned in the late sun of August 1964. Danny smiled the shy smile that had made him a favourite with the girls around campus, the sun shining bright on his face and illuminating his brown eyes. Coop ran his finger gently over Danny's face and a sad chuckle escaped his mouth. Once upon a time, Danny and Coop seemed destined to be only teammates, but Coop had soon realized life was full of strange days.

* * *

_When the seasoned short-stop had met the new pitcher in the fall of 1961, Coop and Danny hadn't exactly made good impressions upon one another. The quiet, well-mannered Danny had struck Coop as a dork and Danny had thought of Coop as an arrogant asshole. When the two had been forced to bunk with each other in motels during away games, neither man had been thrilled._

_But as time passed and Danny and Coop actually talked to one another, their earlier perceptions had changed. Coop had learned that despite Danny's shyness that being a great prosecutor was Danny's dream and Danny had been surprised to learn Coop was an English major. After much pestering by Danny, Coop had reluctantly showed him some of his writing towards the end of that first baseball season and Danny had been awed by how astute Coop's observations on life were. Most important, both Danny and Coop were baseball nuts who were crazy about the Phillies, which had at the time seemed the only thing real thing Coop and Danny had in common._

* * *

Coop pulled himself out of his daydream and slammed the photo album shut and put it back on the box on the bookshelf. His friendship with Danny had been cemented after he had accidentally discovered that Danny shared his secret sickness. When Danny had been murdered, all the acceptance Danny had nurtured in Coop about towards being a homosexual and his love of baseball had been snuffed. When he had finally gotten out of the army, Coop had thrown all of his energies into maintaining the cowboy exterior he had created in childhood, being a good police officer, and pursuing woman. Coop had been resigned to the fact the elements of himself he considered the most endearing would remain forever hidden from the world. The unexpected situation of Jimmy reading his writing had blindsided him. Coop could never imagined that that encounter would blossom into the love Danny had reassured him all those years ago would one day happen for him, if only Coop would stop hating himself. Despite his father's hatred, every second spent with Jimmy made it all worth it.

Smiling now that Jimmy was again at the forefront of his mind, Coop began whistling as he got up and headed into the bathroom, taking off his watch and stripping off his clothes. Wincing at first from the cold drops stinging his skin, Coop let the water wash away the demons that had ambushed him that morning.

* * *

As Jimmy had continued to snore, it had taken Joe ten minutes of holding the towel to Jimmy's lip in silence before he felt brave enough to wake the slumbering man. "Jimmy," whispered Joe, nudging Jimmy's shoulder as his eyes darted nervously. "We're here...time to wake up."

Jimmy murmured incoherently and resumed snoring.

"Jimmy!" hissed Joe, shaking Jimmy's shoulder hard. "We're at Penn General! Wake up!"

"Coop?" Jimmy sputtered as he opened his glazed eyes, the wavering lights scrambling his bearings.

"No, I'm not Coop." Joe sighed. "We're here at the hospital to get you fixed up. Then you can find out how Coop is. Remember?"

Jimmy's eyes widened. "What the hell are we waiting for?" Jimmy screamed, fumbling with his seatbelt. "Let's go!" In his haste, Jimmy jumped up and smacked his head into the roof hard.

Shuddering at the nasty bang, Joe watched Jimmy begin swearing and rubbing his head for the second time that night. He quietly undid his own belt and got out of the patrol car, going to Jimmy's side. Opening the door, he offered Jimmy his hand.

"Fuck off, I'm fine!" Jimmy growled, getting out of the car unsteadily and refusing Joe's hand. His knees still in agony, Jimmy began racing towards the emergency room entrance with Joe struggling to keep up.

* * *

The cold shower rejuvenating him, Coop grabbed a white towel from the nearby towel rack and tied it around his waist. Examining his razor and noting the blade to be dull, Coop opened the first drawer in the green counter and began rifling through, looking for the new package he had bought the previous week. When he at last found it, buried beneath a bunch of old junk mail, Coop replaced the razor blade and smiled as he succeeded without cutting himself. Spreading a generous heaping of shaving cream around his face, Coop stared intently in the mirror as he prepared to make the first stroke. Then his hand began trembling and Coop dropped the razor into the sink. His face turning pale as the white shaving cream spread above it, Coop spun around to confirm what he had just seen.

Danny Holtz was standing by the shower, dressed in a dark blue suit, and smiling shyly at Coop.


	13. Visiting with an Old Friend

"Hey there, Coop," said Danny quietly, a slow smile spreading across his face. "It's been a long time."

Coop closed his eyes and rubbed them hard. "I'm not seeing this," Coop said aloud. "I'm cracking up because I've not gotten enough sleep."

Taking a deep breath, Coop opened his eyes. As the bathroom came back into focus, Coop backed into the counter when he saw Danny still standing in front of him.

"Don't be afraid, Coop," said Danny, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Smelling the familiar scent of the Old Spice Aftershave Lotion Danny had always worn, Coop's eyes went round with terror before he darted out of the bathroom and up the hall to his bedroom. Slamming the door shut and locking it swiftly, Coop turned around and began walking backwards until his back hit the foot of his bed. Sitting down on the brown shag carpet, Coop stared at the door as he began shaking.

* * *

"Jimmy!" puffed Joe. "Slow down, I can't keep up!"

Ignoring Joe, Jimmy continued his reckless pace, knees aching with each step. When he reached the entrance to the emergency room, Jimmy flung open the glass doors. He winced for a moment as the bright glare hit his red-rimmed eyes. Jimmy was about to continue his dash to the reception desk when a husky security guard grabbed his arm, almost throwing Jimmy off balance.

"Just where do you think you're going, buster?" asked the guard gruffly.

Jimmy glared. "I'm here to check up on how a fellow cop is doing and gotta get patched up myself," Jimmy muttered.

Letting go of Jimmy's arm, the security guard glared back. " _You're_ a police officer? You sure don't look like one," the guard said, eying Jimmy up and down.

Forgetting that he was out of uniform, Jimmy pointed to his red polo shirt, gun and nightstick. "Think I'm carrying these around for a laugh?" Jimmy asked in a soft, cold voice as his face grew red. "You wanting to be arrested for assaulting a police officer?"

The security guard took a step back. Though the man in front of him answered him rationally enough, Jimmy's appearance made him seem more like someone who had been on the losing end of a barroom brawl than someone tasked with patrolling the streets of Philadelphia.

Seconds later, Joe entered the emergency room and bent over to catch his breath.

"Thank God, a real cop!" the security guard said in relief, moving to Joe's side. "Officer, the guy over here is totally out of it! He's claiming to be..."

"He's with me!" Joe interjected. "He's had a rough night 'cos his partner's been shot and he's hurt. Jimmy here needs to see a doc. Can you tell me where the reception desk is so we can get the ball rolling here?" Joe asked briskly, brushing hair out of his eyes.

"Over there," the security guard, pointing behind him with his thumb. Looking at Jimmy with sympathy instead of contempt, the security guard said, "I saw them bring that officer in. He looked really bad…" His voice trailed off when he saw Jimmy's face pale.

"Thanks for your help," muttered Joe, grabbing Jimmy by the elbow. _Some help you were, Mr. Security!_ "Jimmy," said Joe as he pulled Jimmy's silent form down the corridor. "Don't listen to that guy. He's no doctor."

"If I had just gone with Coop, none of this would be happening," muttered Jimmy, his eyes looking dull.

Getting into line behind a woman dressed in a bright, orange bathrobe, Joe let go of Jimmy's elbow and turned to face him. "Jimmy, now ain't the time to beat yourself up. You gotta focus on getting yourself patched up so you can be here for Coop. What happened has happened; you can't change it," said Joe, looking down. It seemed unreal how quickly the situation had changed on him. An hour previous, Jimmy had been the one reassuring _him_.

Jimmy knew Joe's words to be true. But it didn't ease his guilt any and he remained silent as blood from his lip trickled onto the floor.

Joe stared hard at the white floor, wishing for some way he could be of comfort to Jimmy. To ease his own turmoil, Joe tried to estimate the number of blue flecks the tile beneath his feet contained.

* * *

His ears at last no longer ringing from Coop's scream, Danny put one hand in his suit pocket as he contemplated his next step. He felt like a moron. How could have he if forgotten that a man like Coop, already questioning his sanity after war dreams, was liable to be spooked if his dead friend was to appear out of thin air?

Sighing, Danny wondered if Coop would be better off if he left. Then, as he remembered why he had been sent here, his resolve solidified. Taking a deep breath, Danny steadied himself and headed for what he guessed to be Coop's bedroom. Coming up to the door, Danny knocked. "Coop?" Danny called.

Danny's knock caused Coop to jump to his feet and the towel almost fell from his waist. Backing as far from the door as was possible, shaving cream dripped from Coop's face and onto his bare chest. "Get the fuck outta here! I know you're not real!" Coop yelled, clenching his fists in front of him.

Wincing at Coop's harsh words, Danny swallowed. "Coop," Danny said through the closed door, "I promise you it's really Danny. I'm not here to torment you. I know this is all very strange, but I promise you there's a logical explanation. Couldn't you at least come out and talk to me for a bit? I've come a long way to see you."

Sitting down on his blue striped quilt, Coop remained silent. He had no idea what to think. While he sometimes had flashbacks when he was alone, they had always been combat related. This situation...

"Coop?" asked Danny, interrupting Coop's train of thought. "How about giving me a chance to explain things?"

Coop hesitated, trying to force his tongue to cooperate with his words."If you're really Danny," Coop yelled back, "then tell me, what was the first poem I ever showed you about?"

Danny smiled as a fond recollection of a rainy April afternoon in a seedy motel in Ithaca, New York entered his mind. "It was about the joy of that first pitch of training camp in the spring. Remember I told you that you couldn't have written it yourself and you got mad because I didn't believe you? You were so mad that you threw my last cigarette out the window." Danny let out a silent laugh and put his hands in his pockets.

Coop looked down. Memories like that had made him miss Danny intensely. Danny was one of only four people who had ever come to know Coop's true self. It seemed foolish _not_ to take advantage of an opportunity to speak to Danny again, hallucination or not. "O-okay," Coop stammered, all emotion draining from his body. "I'll come out and talk. But can't I at least put some clothes on first?"

Danny almost broke out laughing. Despite all that had changed for Coop since they had parted, the man he remembered was still intact. "Sure," Coop. I'll meet you in the living room when you're ready," Danny called as he disappeared down the hall. As he entered the living room, Danny tried to assemble in his mind a speech that would help Coop understand just what was going on.

Wiping the shaving cream off his face and chest with his towel, Coop threw it on his bed when he finished. He strolled over to his heavy oak dresser for a clean pair of boxers as if on autopilot. "I've finally lost it," Coop muttered as he pulled his shorts on. Coop decided to change into his suit so that it would be one less thing to do if this hallucination ended before it was time to leave for Allan's wedding. Pulling on his gray pants, Coop tried to pretend it was 1964 and that he and Danny were headed out to one of Philadelphia's nicer bars for drinks.

* * *

"Hello, gentlemen. How can I help you?" asked a chirpy, red-haired receptionist with John Lennon granny glasses as Joe and Jimmy approached the reception desk. After almost twenty minutes, the woman in the bathrobe was finally processed.

"Coop, how is he?" asked Jimmy, his eyes flashing.

"Coop?" asked the receptionist, puzzled.

"Coop, you know, Coop!" Jimmy demanded impatiently. He slammed his hand down on the counter whilst he wiped the blood dripping down his chin with the other.

The receptionist stared at Jimmy and Joe. She pulled her seat back as she tried to ascertain just what was unfolding before her.

"Jimmy, shut up! Let _me_ explain things!" Joe hissed, glaring at Jimmy hard.

Abashed, Jimmy fell silent and began toying with his nightstick. The adrenalin that had kicked in when he had arrived at the hospital began to dissipate. _Fuck, she must think I'm some sort of nutjob!_

"Look," said Joe to the receptionist politely, his face colouring. Pretty women always made him fluster. "My buddy here, well, we're both police officers. He had to change before he got here. Anyways, tonight his partner got shot and Jimmy got banged up trying to help him. So that's why he's a bit out of sorts right now. Could ya please tell us how the officer who was brought in is doing and book Jimmy in so we can see a doc?"

Understanding flooding her eyes, the receptionist pushed herself back up to the desk. "I don't know much," the receptionist began. "I just know when they got here they rushed the officer right off to surgery. An orderly did take what I think were his parents and a priest over to a waiting area just as I was getting back from my break. I'm afraid it's been so crazy tonight Marlene didn't have time to fill me in on things before she went home. But, after your friend there is treated, I can try to find out more. And see if there's somewhere you can go while you wait for news."

Jimmy slumped against the wall. Relief flooding through him as he realized Coop had still been alive when he had gotten to the hospital.

"Thank you" said Joe gratefully. "What do we do now?"

The receptionist shifted her gaze to Jimmy. "Well, we'll get one of the fellows on to take a look at you. You'll have to fill out these insurance forms first, though."

"Sure," Jimmy muttered.

"Okay," said the receptionist, handing a clipboard containing a sheaf of forms and a pen to Joe. "You two sit over there," she said, gesturing to two vacant seats along the white wall.

"Thanks," said Joe. Turning to Jimmy, Joe pulled him over towards the seats.

Jimmy sat down in silence, all emotion an alien sensation. His eyes became hard, blue stones.

"Here, Jimmy," said Joe, offering Jimmy the clipboard. As Jimmy hesitated, Jimmy brushed a stray curl of hair out of his eyes.

Jimmy looked at Joe in embarrassment. "Don't think I can fill those out without getting blood all over. Could you fill it out for me?" Jimmy asked.

"Sure, Jimmy," said Joe, relieved to have something to do. He began writing down Jimmy's name. "Let's start with the basics. I know your first and last names, but what's your middle initial?"

"D, for David."

"Right," murmured Joe, scratching a sloppy "D" on the form. "Now, what's your social?"

* * *

At last successful in tying his black tie with his stiff fingers, Coop pulled his shirt collar over the lapels of his pale, gray suit jacket. Coop took a deep, steadying breath as he unlocked his door and headed to the living room. Coop tried to take his time, but it only took seconds for him to arrive.

A few feet away from Coop, Danny had made himself comfortable on Coop's brown sofa. As he read a copy of _Time_ , Robin purred beside Danny.

A slight smile came to Coop's face. "Robin usually hides when I got visitors," Coop mumbled, brushing a hand through dry hair that now stood up in tufts all over his head.

Danny winked. "What can I say? Cats love me. And you look sharp, Coop, I must say," said Danny, clearly impressed. In their college days, Coop had lived in jeans and T-shirts at every spare opportunity.

Keeping his head down, Coop muttered, "Yeah, well, I got a wedding to go to. I gotta look decent. Also didn't wanna feel shabby compared to you." Checking his watch, Coop cursed when he noticed his watch had stopped running.

Danny shot Coop a concerned glance. "Something the matter?"

Coop flushed. "I gotta be at that damn wedding by one. But how the hell am I gonna do that when this piece of shit won't work right?!"

Shoot! Danny thought, staring at the carpet. _Coop doesn't seem to remember anything. I should've believed Harold when he told me I'd have to explain these situations to people!_ Wringing his hands together, Danny directed his light brown eyes on Coop. "You don't need to worry, Coop. You've already been to the wedding. And you weren't late. I promise you that."

"Huh?" asked Coop, looking bewildered as he took a seat in his favourite brown velvet armchair.

Danny put a hand on the scrawny creature next to him for support. "Coop...do you remember anything about today—er— I mean yesterday?" Danny stammered as he looked at his watch and noted the time to be 1 am, July 28.

Coop furrowed his brow as he tried to remember. "Uh, let's see...I worked a long shift and me and Jimmy had a hell of a time trying to get some guy in the drunk tank. I came home after that and had some beers in the cellar 'cos it's been so damn hot up here. I read 'til I fell asleep down there. I'd normally hang with Jimmy on Fridays, but he had to work early today. Anyways, I'm on shift after the wedding from 10 pm to 6 am. Why ya askin'?" said Coop, looking at the carpet.

Danny sighed. This wasn't going to be easy at all. "No, Coop. Do you remember what happened after you left the wedding and got to work?"

Coop stared back at Danny, uncomprehending. "But I haven't started work yet…or been to the wedding."

 _I'm going to have to tell him everything it looks like._ Danny braced himself for the fallout. "Coop, you've already been to that wedding. When you got to work, you and Jimmy had a fight. You were upset and took off alone. You got a call to go after a robbery suspect. When you got to the bridge, before you could do anything, you got hurt," said Danny, wringing his hands.

Coop paled.

* * *

_"I think you got it wrong there," Jimmy said, only inches from Coop's face. "I_ ain't _a queer!"_

* * *

_Now completely alone, Coop crossed his hands over the steering wheel and rested his head on them. Coop gave into the tears he had been blinking back and let them stream down his cheeks. Though bitter sobs tried to escape out his mouth, Coop gulped them back, his broad shoulders shuddering._

_Coop couldn't understand it. Before Jimmy had shattered his conceptions, he had never been surer of anything in his life. At last feeling something for someone beyond pure lust, Coop had been willing to risk everything for the happiness he had long denied himself.  
_

* * *

_Coop stared out into the pitch black night. Whatever trouble was coming his way, he would take care of it. He just wished his father and Jimmy could see him now_

* * *

_Coop breathed heavily and the pain emanating from his chest was so intense he almost screamed. Blood dribbled from his mouth and ran out his nose, trickled down his face from where the glass fragments had gashed it. Coop could feel warm fluid gushing down his chest and back. Darkness flooded his vision and he almost passed out._

_Coop forced himself to continue breathing, clearing his throat of the blood that was trying to drown him. Coop leaned against his door, his hair wet with perspiration. He tried in vain to staunch the blood flow from below his left pectoral with his left hand whilst reaching for his walky talky with his right. The pain from moving his shoulder was sharp, but Coop merely gritted his teeth._

_Instinct told Coop to reach for his gun, but he had to use wisely the strength he had remaining. Coop brought the walky talky to his mouth and swallowed before sputtering, "Officer down, east end of the bridge at Diamond." Coop paused to get a clear breath. "I've been hit. Two shots out of nowhere."_

* * *

As he remembered snatches from the worst night of his life, Coop bent over.

Danny got up, and knelt beside Coop's chair. He put his arm around Coop's shoulders as they began to shake.


	14. Ghosts and Shells

Joe let out a sigh as he finished filling out the lengthy insurance forms. "Don't think I've written that much since my finals," Joe muttered, shaking the writer's cramp out of his left wrist.

Jimmy looked up. "Finals?"

"Yeah, graduated high school last year. Nothing but tests! Anyways, I'm gonna give these forms to the broad at the desk. Be right back," said Joe, getting up from his chair. Walking towards the reception desk, Joe took a place behind a haggard young woman holding a screaming toddler. Joe resisted the temptation to plug his ears with his index fingers.

"Graduated last year, huh?" Jimmy muttered to himself. Studying Joe from where he sat, Jimmy found it difficult to believe Joe was nineteen. With his thin build and beardless face, Joe sure didn't look it. If Joe had admitted to Jimmy that he had lied about his age to join the force, Jimmy would have believed him without hesitation.

But leaning back in his seat, Jimmy gave the notion some thought. The eager to please kid Jimmy had met less than twenty-hours before had vanished moments after seeing the ugly things human beings were capable of inflicting upon one another. The youthful exterior Joe possessed was now little more than a façade.

_Just like Coop._

* * *

_A year previous, Jimmy had first met Coop as a rookie fresh out of the Police Academy. The guys at the Academy had branded Coop as a headstrong, reckless cowboy. Upon graduation, the reputation Coop had earned follow him to his first assignment._

_North Philly had seen a surge in crime and the 5th District precinct had required many veterans and rookies to bolster its ranks. Jimmy had spent his first four years on the force in 12th District and had enjoyed it. Being required to transfer to 5th District on short notice had been a pain. However, Jimmy's irritation swelled tenfold when he had learned he was to be partnered with the rookie cowboy. Putting Coop in the driver's seat their first shift together, Jimmy smirked with contempt at the kid beside him._ So, they figure me and a kid barely old enough to shave will make good partners? _Jimmy snorted to himself._ Just wait 'til he gets to his first call that ain't smashing a bottle outta a drunk's hands!

_But as with many things, Jimmy's assumptions would prove untrue. Later that day, Jimmy found himself sitting in the cruiser in shock after he and Coop had encountered the end results of a violent stabbing. Without flinching, Coop had nonchalantly helped Jimmy administer first aid whilst they had waited for the firefighters to arrive._

_As Coop drove back to the station so they could file their reports, Jimmy looked the kid with admiration. "Wow, Cooper, gotta say that you handled that great. Hell, first call I had like that, I was shitting bricks."_

_Coop flashed Jimmy an arrogant smirk. "A little blood doesn't scare me. Fuck, I saw way worse in Vietnam. Just trust me on that, Bruno."_

_Jimmy had realized then that there was a lot more to Coop than was on the surface. Thus, it hadn't been long before he had come to view Coop as a partner instead of some punk kid he had been tasked with babysitting._

* * *

"Coop," Jimmy whispered softly, squinting to ease the glare of the harsh fluorescent lights above his head flooding into his burning eyes.

* * *

"It's okay, Coop. I promise you, everything's going to be okay," Danny whispered as Coop's shoulders began to still.

Coop folded his hands across his lap. His body was so numb that he scarcely noticed how ice cold his fingers were. "I could use some water," Coop mumbled in a monotone, his throat feeling gritty.

"Sure, Coop!" Danny bounded to his feet "I'll go grab you a glass. Just wait here!" With a quick thumbs up, Danny sprinted for the kitchen.

Coop placed his legs on the brown velvet ottoman in front him. Narrowing his eyes and staring at the white ceiling, a thought struck him. "So, it's finally over," Coop said softly, beginning to laugh.

* * *

"Jimmy, you okay?" asked Joe as he returned from the reception desk. The vacant, faraway look in Jimmy's eyes unnerved him.

Jimmy rubbed his eyes. "I'm fine, man. Just this damn lip of mine hurts like a son of a bitch! Jimmy whispered, a grimace spreading across his face. _More like my heart's been ripped in half. But pretend like you don't give a fuck! Keep lying to the world!_

Joe rocked on his feet. "Well, they're ready to see ya now. I'll show ya where to go."

"Let's go then," muttered Jimmy, struggling to get up. When the pain hit his knees, Jimmy fell back onto the seat.

"Here, let me," said Joe, offering Jimmy his hand.

Grateful, Jimmy this time accepted the waiting hand. He grunted in pain once he was upright.

"Alright, just follow me this way," said Joe, gesturing towards one of many corridors leading away from the waiting area.

* * *

The hysterical chuckling began to filter into the kitchen. Startled, Danny dropped the glass of water he had filled almost to the brim. The glass tumbled to the floor and smashed at Danny's feet, soaking his pants and black leather shoes. "Damn it!" Danny shouted, snapping his fingers. Danny's pants and shoes dried instantly and the glass of water shot back into Danny's hand intact.

"Coop?" Danny called as he entered the living room. "I brought you some water…"

Coop was bent over double. He was laughing so hard that tears were beginning to make their way down his flushed cheeks.

Clenching his jaw, Danny slammed the glass of water on the side table next to Coop. "Coop, just what the hell is so funny?" Danny asked, kneeling beside Coop and giving him a hard squint.

Coop stopped laughing. Once he had caught his breath, Coop looked up at Danny with surprise. Coop couldn't remember Danny ever cursing in front of him. "They allow swearing up there or something, Danny?"

Danny's face flamed. "Well, it's not exactly encouraged…"

"Oh, I get it!" Coop interrupted, snapping his fingers. "You're here to warn me that I'd better watch my mouth before we head up!" Coop couldn't help but let a chuckle pass through his lips.

Danny glared at Coop."Quit with the wisecracks, Coop! We don't exactly have a ton of time here!"

Coop fell silent. "We got all the time in the world, Danny," muttered Coop, taking his feet off the ottoman. "I'm dead, you're dead. We're both ghosts. All we got is time."

Danny rose to his feet and began pacing in frustration. "You're right and wrong, Coop. I _am_ dead, but..."

Coop got up and put an index finger to Danny's mouth to silence him. As Danny gave him a hard look, Coop withdrew his hand. "Fine, Danny. I'm happy to talk or do whatever is we gotta do. But I can't looking like a wreck one second longer. If I'm gonna be heading with you back to the Pearly Gates, I at least wanna look decent. Can't I comb my hair and come back here after that?"

Danny sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "If you must, Coop. But when you're back here, we need to have a serious chat. No more bullshit!"

"Ha! Heaven mustn't be a strict as Father Mack taught me if we can say all that stuff up there!" Chuckling, Coop headed down the hall to the bathroom.

Danny let out a sharp exhale and collapsed back onto the couch. Danny welcomed Robin onto his lap and began petting the cat as he tried to contemplate a strategy.

* * *

In silence, Jimmy and Joe headed down a taupe and purple hallway. After a couple minutes, Joe grabbed Jimmy's elbow and halted their journey. Joe opened a wooden door with a large glass window embedded with chicken wire. Jimmy winced at the strong smell of antiseptics that washed over him. Holding his breath, Jimmy stared at the larger window that formed one half of the examination room's wall.

"Are you James Bruno?" asked a nurse in a white uniform.

"Yeah, that's me," Jimmy muttered, staring at the nurse's blonde beehive. A few feet away, a doctor dressed in a white coat stood beside a brown, vinyl examination bed.

"Well, hop up here," said the nurse, waving her hand towards the table.

Jimmy walked over to the bed. He climbed up stiffly, blood continuing to dribble down his chin.

Joe watched tensely from the doorway. No longer distracted, he began to remember how much he hated this hospital.

Smiling, the nurse tried to put Jimmy at ease. "My name is Nurse Raynor. This gentleman here is Dr. Kuhn, one of our best residents."

Jimmy ground his teeth. The last thing he needed was another rookie.

"So, what appears to be the problem here, Mr. Bruno?" asked Doctor Kuhn, not looking Jimmy in the eye.

Jimmy groaned, thinking his issues obvious. "My partner got injured tonight. I fell rushing over to him. My boss figured my lip needs stitches. I also cut my knees pretty bad. I think there's glass stuck in 'em."

Putting on a white rubber glove, Doctor Kuhn probed and prodded Jimmy's cut. "Your boss was right. You have a pretty nasty gash. I'm thinking three or four stitches, at least. Here, hold this gauze to it until we start cleaning it," said Doctor Kuhn in a monotone. He handed Jimmy a piece of bright white gauze from a metal tray located at his side.

Taking the gauze, Jimmy pinched it between his thumb and forefinger and brought it to his lip. He winced in pain as the doctor and nurse began fingering his knees.

Dr. Kuhn looked up. "There's definitely glass in there. Some gravel, as well. We'll have to get those out and irrigate those wounds. You're free to go once we're done all this."

"Great," Jimmy muttered, studying the dark gray linoleum floor below him.

"In the meantime, you need to change," directed Nurse Raynor.

"Change?" Jimmy asked, his eyes widening in confusion.

Doctor and nurse exchanged glances. Dr. Kuhn looked down at the floor, trying to think of a way to clarify the situation. "Well, Mr. Bruno, you'll have to take your pants and those uh…weapons off for us to look at your knees. It's best if you put this on," Doctor Kuhn explained, strolling over to a shelf and pulling down a skimpy white gown folded into a neat square.

Joe managed not to laugh. But the corners of his mouth still twisted into a smile, even as Jimmy glared at him darkly.

* * *

Satisfied at last, Coop finished oiling his hair. He smiled at his suave reflection. Coop was amazed death hadn't been nearly as horrible as he had imagined. For the past three years, the specter of Death had haunted Coop in the form of a Vietcong machine gun or a violent drunk's knife. Now that it had happened, Coop was elated that he no longer had anything to fear.

Coop whistled as he strolled back into the living room. "Okay, Danny, I'm ready to go."

Placing Robin onto a free spot on the couch, Danny stood up. He began brushing cat hair off his pants. "Go where, Coop?"

Coop gawked at Danny. "Why, up there of course!" Coop pointed up at the ceiling and laughed. "You're here to escort me to the great beyond, ain't 'cha?"

Groaning in exasperation, Danny walked over to Coop. "Coop, we're not going anywhere. I told you there's a logical explanation for why I'm here. If you'd just listen to me for two seconds I could tell you what it is."

Coop rolled his eyes and swung his right arm around Danny's thin shoulders. "Danny, Danny! Ever the aspiring lawyer, I see! Look man, I get what's going on. You don't need to go into the minute contract details with me. I understand what happened. I got shot and died. Since we were pals once, you're here to make this all easier for me. So I'm less scared or whatever. But they didn't have to send ya here. I'm not afraid of what's gonna happen next."

Danny groaned and pushed Coop off of him. He realized Coop wasn't going to listen to him unless he did something drastic. Thinking fast, Danny grabbed the glass of water and threw it over Coop's face.

"What the fuck, Danny!" Coop bellowed. Water dripped down his face and past his shirt collar. Coop was tempted to wring Danny's neck. Instead, Coop glowered at Danny as his breath came out in short gasps.

Feeling the couch shake from Coop's screech, Robin took off.

"I'm sorry, Coop," Danny muttered. He was beginning to regret acting so rashly. "Let me help you."

"No thanks," Coop mumbled. "I can towel myself off!"

Grabbing Coop's shoulder, Danny stopped Coop's retreat. "Wait, Coop. I got a faster way" said Danny, snapping his fingers.

Coop turned pale as he felt his face and shirt dry. He backed away from Danny. "H-how'd you do that?"

Danny shrugged. "Once I got upstairs, I gained some useful talents."

Coop took a seat on the sofa. "Great. What sorta stuff will I get to do up there?" Coop asked Danny, feeling nervous.

Danny took a seat next to Coop. "I don't know, Coop. Until you decide if you want to die, I have no idea what sort talents the Boss would let you have."

Coop shook his head, his mind swirling with confusion. "Wait, what do you mean until I decide _if_ I wanna die?! You just told me I got shot! I remember it all! Though I gotta say you guys letting me leave that gray place threw me for a loop. After those firefighters grabbed me, I blacked out and woke up here! What the fuck is this, anyway?" demanded Coop, leaping to his feet.

Danny's mouth twisted. "I know this isn't easy for you to understand, Coop. Yes, you were shot. But you didn't die. You're still alive, but you're not awake. For right now, you're in an in-between place. It doesn't really have a name, so just think of it as Somewhere Between Life and Death."

Coop began pacing. "You mean Purgatory, don't you?"

Danny shrugged his thin shoulders. "No, Purgatory's only for those who have died. What happened is we got some prayers on your behalf and you showed pretty clear you didn't want to go to Eternity. With all that in mind, the Boss decided to let you have some extra time to make sure living is what you really wanted."

Coop stopped walking. "If we're in some weird, metaphysical place, then why the hell was Robin here? Did you guys kill him?" Coop demanded angrily, his eyes blazing.

Danny grimaced and crossed his arms. "Like I told you, it's hard to explain! The whole time before I got here was just your memories from yesterday. As for why your cat was here after I got here, well sometimes the Boss calls the souls of those still on Earth up to help make things a bit easier. Robin's fine and he's back on Earth now. Anyways, now that you finally understand what's going on, I'm here to help you decide where you go from here, Coop. Though I think I know what the answer is. The way you bolted from the gates made it obvious."

Coop sank into his armchair. "You got it wrong there, Danny. It really doesn't matter what I wanted up there. No matter what you think, I've already been dead for a long time. My soul's already down in Hell," Coop muttered, his voice shaking.

Danny shuffled his way over to Coop's chair. "What's that supposed to mean, Coop?"

Coop lifted his head and stared straight ahead as he composed a poem on the spot.

"The first crack came when you died,  
Though everyone thought I took it in stride.  
They didn't see pieces of me,  
Breaking apart into the sea.  
Vietcong bullets shattered the rest,  
My ghost unable to take the test.  
This past year I existed as only a shell,  
Living in an eternal hell.  
Day after day I stared at my gun,  
Wondering why I didn't end the fun.  
Finally someone finished for me this curse of a life,  
I see no reason to give death strife."

Tears pricked Danny's eyes and he slipped his hand into Coop's. "Coop, how can you think like that?! You're a good person who has a lot to live for!"

Coop shook his head and turned his gaze to Danny. "It's simple, Danny. My Pop can't stand the sight of me. I've ruined Jimmy's marriage. Fuck, I can't even sleep at night without seeing the horrible things I did to people in a place I never wanted to go to! So you tell me, Danny. You tell me why I would want to keep living a life like that," Coop whispered. Getting up from his seat, Coop headed to the front window. He began staring into a quiet summer afternoon with an endless, cornflower blue sky.


	15. Demons

Walking up beside Coop, Danny kept his gaze fixed downward so Coop wouldn't see his glistening eyes. Danny's heart ached to see his friend in so much pain.

Whoever said that the Afterlife is carefree was a liar! Danny thought, clenching one hand into a fist. "I know that the life you've had to live the past few years hasn't been easy, Coop," Danny acknowledged, placing his hand on Coop's shoulder. "But that doesn't mean it's not worth fighting for."

Coop let out a dry laugh and turned to face Danny. "Not easy? That's putting it pretty mildly!"

Danny sighed. "I know. I just wasn't sure of what else to say."

"Whatever. I don't wanna talk about it," Coop muttered, jamming his hands into his pockets. His eyes hardening, Coop gave the carpet a sharp kick.

Danny's pursed as he studied Coop. Though four years had passed, Coop remained a stubborn fighter who wasn't likely to bend with gentle persuasion. But Danny hadn't become one of Eternity's best lawyers by giving up the difficult cases.

Danny tilted Coop's chin upwards until Coop's gaze was fixed upon his own. "Coop, those demons you've been carrying around will never let up until you get them out in the open. But, we can talk about whatever you want for now. I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me, anyways," Danny said quietly.

Ducking his head, Coop admitted, "Well, you're right about that I got a lotta questions. The first one is I still don't get why you're here, Danny."

"I told you Coop, I'm here to help you decide…"

"That's not what I mean," interrupted Coop, giving Danny an appraising stare. "I mean, out of everyone in the world who could be here, why'd they pick you?"

The corners of Danny's lips turned into a smile. "That's an easy answer. You asked me to come."

"I did?!"

"You did," affirmed Danny with a nod of his head. "Remember what you asked for after you got upset and took off from the police station? You said to yourself you wished I could drop by your place for a beer so you could talk about things. The Boss was going to send someone more experienced than me at first. But since you made a specific request, here I am."

Coop flushed and looked down at the ground. "I never realized anyone was actually listening to me all this time," Coop muttered at last.

Danny had to laugh. "Well, someone's always listening Coop. That's why I have this one message for you, too. The Boss told me to tell you that he doesn't have a twisted sense of humour."

Coop began shaking his head in disbelief as he started pacing around the small living room.

Glancing at his watch, Danny pulled Coop towards him during his next lap of the living room. "Anyways, Coop, now that I'm here, do you think we can have that drink? The trip over here made me pretty thirsty."

Coop looked at Danny in astonishment. "Drink?! You can drink on the job?!"

Danny's eyes darted about the room. "Well, it's another thing that's not exactly encouraged. But if it helps us in doing what we're assigned to, the Boss makes some exceptions. Gotany gin?"

Coop broke into a broad grin. "Of course I got gin, lightweight! I got some in the kitchen. Just lemme go get it!"

"I'm not a lightweight, Coop! I just like to savour what I'm drinking!" Danny countered as Coop disappeared from view. Smiling, Danny took a seat on the sofa and placed his feet on the coffee table. It had been four, long years since he had had a good gin and tonic.

* * *

Once satisfied that the blinds looking into his examination room were closed tight, Jimmy borrowed some white medical tape to stick a piece of gauze in place over his tortured lip. Now that both his hands were free, Jimmy began the task of changing into the gown Doctor Kuhn had insisted he wear. Jimmy felt a red flush creep over his body as he removed his shirt and wriggled out of his shoes and pants. After a few minutes of struggle, Jimmy was at last successful in pulling the tight white gown over his head. Seeing the gown barely falling below his waist, Jimmy decided not to remove his undershorts. He paced over to the door in his stocking feet and popped his head into the hallway to let the nurse and doctor know he was ready for treatment to proceed. But, stunned to see only Joe looking back at him, Jimmy quickly slammed the door shut.

Seeing Jimmy dart back into the examination room quicker than a Jack-in-the-Box, Joe twisted the doorknob. "Jimmy," Joe called out as he entered the room. "The doctor and nurse had to go for a bit. Incoming car accident victim or something. You can quit hiding behind that table. I can see you plain as day!"

Reluctantly, Jimmy stood up straight and emerged from behind the examination table. The fitted gown reached barely below the elastic band of his white boxers.

Though he placed his hand over his mouth, Joe's laughter still escaped.

Jimmy gave Joe a cold stare, but said nothing as he hopped up onto the table.

"Okay, Jimmy, I'm sorry. But uh...you do realize you gotta take your shorts off too, right?"

"Sure, when Hell freezes over."

"Just kidding, Jimmy. They'll let you leave them on."

Jimmy shot Joe a hard glare. "You an expert on these sorts of matters or something?"

"Not exactly," Joe admitted, studying the white walls. "It's just I've spent a lot of time here and know how things work around the joint."

Jimmy looked up. "Aren't ya a bit too healthy to have spent any time in a hospital?"

Joe let out a long sigh. "It wasn't for me. It was my mom."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah," muttered Joe, staring off into space. "Got diagnosed with leukemia when I was nine."

"Oh," said Jimmy, his eyes softening as understanding began to dawn. "That's cancer, ain't?"

Joe nodded. "Yeah, cancer of the white blood cells. Most people who get it get die within weeks, but my mom got some slower progressing kind. She was always running around, doing all sorts of stuff for my school until she got this really bad back pain. One day it got so bad she couldn't get out of bed. Turns out her spleen was full of cancer and they gave her radiation to make her comfortable. Other than that, nothing they could do."

"I'm sorry, kid. That couldn't have been easy," said Jimmy, forgetting his own torment for a moment.

"Nah, it wasn't. For a year, Mom did okay, but then went downhill fast. She had to spend a lotta time here. She needed blood transfusions and entered a medicine trial they were doing. Nasty shit called chemotherapy. Mom admitted to me that she knew the chemo wasn't gonna help her. I just couldn't understand why she would put herself through all that pain for no reason. She told me, "Joey, even if they can't save me, I can at least help them understand this blasted disease so they can help other people in the future. Anyways, the chemo was useless and Mom died a month after starting it. I've hated hospitals ever since."

Jimmy looked down. "I'm sorry, kid."

Joe turned away from Jimmy, swallowing back his grief. "It's okay. It's been almost nine years. I'm just sorry I brought it up."

Jimmy got down from the table. He walked up beside Joe slowly, his knees making him grimace with each step. "Don't worry about it. Ya know, if it's hard for you to be here, you can go if you want, Joe," said Jimmy, even though he dreaded the prospect of waiting alone.

Joe shook his head. "Nope. I promised McCree I'd stay here with you and drive you back to the station. And I'm a man of my word."

Jimmy gave Joe a genuine smile. "I appreciate it. I really do."

Joe blushed and looked down at the ground. "It's no problem. Really. And I'm still sorry for laughing at you. But, Jimmy, you gotta admit that you look hilarious in that getup!"

Jimmy groaned.

The door to the examination room flew open. Jimmy and Joe looked up in surprise at Nurse Raynor and Doctor Kuhn.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Bruno," said Nurse Raynor quickly. "There was a really bad accident on the highway. We had multiple causalities, so they needed all available hands."

"It's alright," said Jimmy quietly. "That's the business you're in."

Nurse Raynor let out a humourless chuckle. "True enough. Now hop up on the table, please. Let's get that lip of yours stitched up."

* * *

Seated at the kitchen table, Coop glared at Danny. "Christ, Danny, you gonna drink that thing or what?" Coop inquired, annoyed Danny had barely touched the gin and tonic he had concocted.

Danny groaned. "I will, Coop. Give me a break, I've not had a real drink in almost four years!"

Coop opened up his second beer and rolled his eyes at Danny. Some things never changed. Danny had never been much of a drinker, but had always been quick to deny the lightweight accusation.

Taking a deep sip of the drink to appease Coop, Danny tried not to wince from the burning sensation spreading across his throat. "Anyways, Coop, what would you like to talk about?"

Coop began rocking on his chair and his mouth spread into a small smirk. "I'd like to talk about how tacky that tie looks on ya, Danny. You need a new tailor."

Danny closed his eyes and counted to three. "Coop, I mean a serious chat. You said you wanted to talk to me. I'm here, so let's talk."

Coop stopped rocking and began fiddling with his own tie. "Well, Danny, it just ain't that easy. I've not seen you in four years. And I'm still having a hard time believing this whole thing ain't just me finally losing my marbles, ya know? With all that's happened this year, I've really been questioning my sanity lately."

Danny got up and began studying Coop's linoleum floor. "Yeah, I know Coop. And I understand how this whole situation must be strange for you. But you've not gone crazy. I promise you that."

Coop sighed and studied the white tabletop. "Guess I gotta take your word for it, Danny. I mean, I know you've never lied to me before, but this is all hard to take in."

Danny smiled slightly. "I know. And who says lawyers aren't honest people? Anyways, is there any way I can make this easier for you? Will it be easier for you to talk if  _I_ ask the questions?"

Coop grimaced. "I dunno. You know I've never been a huge talker, Danny. I mean, yeah, I bantered with the guys on the team and I chat a lot at work. But it's not much substance. I really only talk these days with Jimmy or the cat. I mean, I used to talk to them," muttered Coop, looking down at the floor.

Danny put his hand on Coop's shoulder. "You do have a chance to talk to them again."

Coop paled as he got to his feet. "I got a hard time believing that, Danny. I saw the blood pouring out of me. It looked way too bad for it not to have been fatal."

"I know, Coop. And I'm not going to lie and say that you're not in a good physical situation. But people survive things all the time, even when it appears everything is stacked against them."

Coop raised his eyebrows. "Huh? You're not trying to say I'm the product of a miracle, are ya?"

"I think miracle might be what you Catholics might call it," Danny admitted.

Coop let out a snort. "Danny, I'm a  _recovering_  Catholic. Fuck, I gave up on religion years ago. I guess this boss person you keep must have access to some really potent LSD up there."

Danny's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Coop clenched his teeth. "If there was any person out there who could be granted a miracle, it wouldn't be me. You guys made one hell of a mistake."

Danny shook his head. "No,  _you're_ wrong, Coop. We did get it right. You really need to quit thinking of yourself as this horrible person who deserves all the bad crap that has come your way."

Coop licked his bone dry lips. "Then tell me why, Danny. Why has all this bad stuff happened to me?"

Danny's forehead wrinkled as he began wreaking his brain. Even four years after his death, Danny still had a hard time accepting the fate he had been dealt. "It's one of those things I can't really answer, Coop. Heck, I still don't know the why about what happened to  _me._ I don't understand why I admitted to Harvey Smith that I went to The Hush Room when I knew full well what could happen if he told the other guys on the team. I don't know why my life, like yours, was hard in so many ways. But I do know it's not because of anything I did. I was a good person in life and I had a right to exist and be happy. You do, too. As hard as things have been for you, you've been happy, too. You and Jimmy are the lucky ones, remember?"

Coop shook his head as he remembered the last time he had seen Jimmy. "Jimmy doesn't think so. He pretty much called me a worthless, dirty queer when he said I should find a new partner. Jimmy'll be a whole lot better off if I just die," Coop whispered.

Danny sighed heavily and clenched Coop's hand. "Look, I admit Jimmy said some horrible stuff. But you know what he's like: Jimmy's mouth is always ten steps ahead of his brain. Jimmy regretted what he said even before you took off on your own. He knows you were right, that he was just afraid of what you two were experiencing. Jimmy needs you, Coop. You're the best thing that's ever happened to him."

Coop looked up at Danny. It was a fierce struggle to keep himself from weeping. "You're wrong, Danny. I almost destroyed Jimmy's life."


	16. Letting the Dam Burst

Danny clenched Coop's hand hard, trying to keep his mind off the agony Coop's words were inflicting upon him.

Coop tried to whip his hand out of Danny's tight grip. "Ow, Danny, you're hurting me!" Coop growled in a low voice.

"Sorry, Coop," Danny muttered, loosening his grip. "It just that it tears me up to hear you say this terrible stuff about yourself. What you just said was complete and utter bullshit!" said Danny in a firm voice, his brown eyes flashing fiercely.

Coop pulled his hand away from Danny as he took as a seat at the table. Even after hearing Danny curse several times, each time was still a shock. "When did you learn to swear, Danny?" Coop wondered aloud.

Danny paused for a moment before answering, "I always knew how, Coop. Just never struck me as good social etiquette. But after a few years of doing the work that I do, well, I learned it helped me to connect better with certain types of people."

Coop's studied his leather black shoes, almost seeing his reflection in the glossy polish. "What exactly is it you do up there, Danny?"

"Hmmm, good question," said Danny, considering his answer. "Well, they've just recently started letting me come down this way to help council people with difficult choices. This is my first life and death case, though. I'm usually a lawyer."

"A lawyer?! You're a lawyer?!" Coop stammered. "What the hell do they need lawyers up there for?!"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Remember when you asked me about Purgatory?"

"Um, I think so."

"Okay, good," said Danny as he straightened up and put his hands behind his back. "Well, Purgatory isn't quite the way you think of it. Heck, it's not even called that. But to keep things simple, let's call it Purgatory. When some people come up, they're what we call Borderlines. We're not sure whether to admit them to Eternity or condemn them to Hell. So what the Boss does is give the Borderlines some small task to accomplish down on Earth. Nothing huge like this, you understand. It's more like helping a hungry animal find some food or helping someone out of a small jam. If the Borderlines do a good job, I advocate for them to be allowed into Eternity. If they don't, well, I try to secure them a second chance to prove their worth. Of course, not all cases deserve that. It's not easy the work that I do, but it is very gratifying."

"What the hell made you decide to do all that? Couldn't you have just had your eternal rest, Danny?" asked Coop, widening his eyes at Danny.

"I could've, yeah. Lived a life of total leisure. But when they told me about this line of work, I just couldn't refuse it, Coop. It sucks I didn't get to be a lawyer on Earth, so I couldn't pass up the second chance I was being given," Danny explained, shrugging as he paced over to Coop's sink.

"So, what's a classy guy like yourself then doing wasting your time on someone like me? Don't ya know my case is already open and shut, Danny? I'm already condemned to Hell," Coop stated in a dull voice, his right index finger picking at the skin on his thumb.

Danny sighed. "Coop, how many times do I have to tell you that you're not going to Hell? Getting a chance to make the choice you're being allowed to make is rare and doesn't happen to bad people. I wouldn't be here and you wouldn't have almost gone right into Eternity if you were such a horrible person. That's one thing I have to help you change your mind about, isn't it?"

"I dunno," muttered Coop, getting to his feet and pulling at his tie. "All I know is I can't stand wearing this chafing suit anymore. I'm gonna change. I'll be back soon."

As Coop began to head out of the kitchen, Danny pulled him back. "Nice try, Coop," said Danny, snapping his fingers. A cloud of dust filled the kitchen. When it settled, Danny looked at a T-shirted and jean clad Coop with satisfaction.

Coop paled. "How the hell did you know this is what I wanted to wear?"

Danny grinned. "Another talent I've been given to prevent stall tactics."

"Stall tactics?" asked Coop in confusion.

Danny became serious. "There's a lot of difficult stuff floating around in your mind that you want to get off your chest, Coop. But you're so used to just burying everything that the prospect of bringing up the things that are tormenting you is terrifying. That's why you keep trying to think of ways to put me off. But you can't, so you might as well quit trying."

"So you won't let me be by myself for even a few minutes?" Coop asked, his face reddening.

Knowing the danger signs of Coop's temper flaring, Danny switched gears. "I was just trying to help speed things up, Coop. It could be worse. I could've dressed you as Bozo the Clown if I had wanted to."

A half grin spread across Coop's face as visions of a bright orange wig on his head crossed his mind. "If you do that Danny, I'm giving you a black eye!"

Danny smiled back. "I know. That's why I didn't do it…yet."

"Thanks. I think, anyways. Can I just ask ya one thing, Danny?"

"Sure, Coop. What is it?"

Coop flushed and began running a hand through his hair. "Well, ya know how you said you swear at certain people so you can connect better with them?"

"Yeah, so?" Danny asked, not sure where Coop's thought processes were heading.

"Am I so different that ya gotta do that with me?" Coop demanded, pulling at his T-shirt.

Danny thought for a moment. "No, it's not that you're different, Coop. I guess I just thought it'd help put you more at ease. You're a guy who grew up around cops who swore a blue streak and now you work with guys who are the same. It's not because I thought you had changed. I do have to admit that I don't recall you being so angry and depressed four years ago. But at your core, you're still the same guy I remember."

Coop sighed and looked down. "I still think you're wrong on that, Danny. Who you knew vanished and died a long time ago."

"Coop, come over here," Danny directed, pointing to a spot on the floor in front of him.

Nervously, Coop shuffled over to Danny.

"Look at me in the eye, Coop," Danny commanded, putting both of his hands on Coop's thick shoulders.

Swallowing hard, Coop forced himself to raise his head. Danny's eyes bored through him.

Taking a deep breath, Danny searched for the right words. "Coop, you've experienced some horrible things. Things that I think no one should have to go through, no matter what justification others I work with try to give me. But there's no way to change what happened to you in Vietnam. You can't go back and flee to Canada or something to dodge your draft. We both know you would never have done that, anyways. You've _never_ avoided your duty. What you _can_ control is how you react to the past going forward. So, as much as you keep trying to tell yourself and me otherwise, you're not walking around as some soulless entity. You wouldn't feel the way you do about things if that were true."

Coop sighed and looked at Danny's tie.

"You can't keep bottling everything up, Coop! It's not healthy!"

Coop's face twisted as he tried to swallow down the lump that had arisen in his throat. "I don't talk about those things, Danny. If I pretend it was fun for me, it's almost like it didn't happen! That it was just another good time for me instead of what it really is!"

Danny directed Coop's face upwards. "I get that, Coop. But it _did_ happen! This is a safe place where you don't have to run from your demons anymore!"

Tears sprang into Coop's eyes and he tried hard to fight them back. Ever since coming home, he had numbed himself to the pain, trying to escape his night terrors in a blend of alcohol and sex. But now everything he had struggled to keep together threatened to crumble before him.

Wordlessly, Danny took his hands off Coop's shoulders and pulled Coop towards him.

Danny's aftershave lotion flooding his nose loosened the dike Coop had struggled to keep up. Hugging Danny back, tears began slipping down Coop's cheeks as the dam burst.

Holding Coop tight, Danny whispered, "It'll be okay, Coop.

* * *

Leaning against the window outside Jimmy's examination room, Joe groaned as he massaged pain out of his left hand. When Nurse Raynor and Dr. Kuhn had first arrived back, Jimmy had hopped up onto the table willingly enough to be treated. Until Jimmy proven himself to be highly needle phobic.

* * *

_"What the hell are those things for?" Jimmy had asked as he had inched away from Nurse Raynor._

_"Local anesthetic. So you don't feel anything while we stitch you up," Dr. Kuhn explained._

_"No way in hell you're touching me with any needle!" Jimmy declared quietly._

_"How exactly did you think we were going to stitch up that lip of yours?" inquired Nurse Raynor._

_"I dunno! But not with any needle!"_

_After several minutes of arguing, a compromise had been reached: Jimmy would allow the injections if he was given some way of keeping his mind off the pain. Not realizing what he was agreeing to, Joe had volunteered Jimmy squeezing his hand without a second thought._

* * *

Afterwards, Joe's hand had throbbed so much that he had assumed it to be broken. Joe felt relief as the pain began to subside, but jumped when he heard the examination door bang open. Dr. Kuhn rushed past Joe without a word.

Nurse Raynor stopped for a moment. "Well, he's treated now." Nurse Raynor sighed. It'd been a long night. "He's just changing."

"That's good," Joe muttered. "Is Jimmy okay?"

"Well, his knees and lip will probably be pretty sore once the medicine wears off. But he'll be good as new in a few days. Thanks for your help, Mr. Malone. Anyways, it's time for me to go off shift," said Nurse Raynor before disappearing down the hallway.

Beginning to feel hot, Joe unbuttoned his uniform shirt and pulled it off and untucked his white T-shirt. Rolling his shirt into a ball under his arm, Joe headed back into the examination room.

"Joe, what the hell? Didn't anyone ever teach ya how to knock? Get outta here!" Jimmy hissed. While Jimmy had already pulled his pants and gunbelt back on, his torso was still bare.

"Sorry, Jimmy," Joe muttered as his face turned beet red. "I just came to say now that you're patched up we can head back to the reception desk. Maybe they know how Cooper's doing."

Jump-started by Joe's reminder, Jimmy pulled on his polo shirt and crammed his feet into his shoes. "Well, we can get going now."

Joe gave Jimmy a nervous smile.

* * *

Joe and Jimmy walked up the hallway and both groaned when they noticed the long line awaiting them at the reception desk. From experience, Jimmy knew Saturday nights in Philadelphia weren't quiet. But he hadn't suspected the analogy also applied to hospitals.

"Christ," said Jimmy as he and Joe joined the cue. "Just what time is it, anyways?"

Joe wiped grease off his watch as he checked it. "It's four-thirty."

"Geez, we've already been here that long? Sure didn't seem that long when we were waiting."

"Would seem that way," agreed Joe.

"Anyways, kid, if ya want, you can head back to the station. I don't care what McCree told me; I ain't leaving here 'til I know if Coop's okay or not. You don't have to hang around here any longer."

"But how would you get back to the station then, Jimmy?" Joe asked, combing his hair with his hands. "You don't even have your wallet on you and that was a big problem when you had trouble remembering your social! The station ain't exactly within walking distance, ya know."

Jimmy sighed. "I didn't think of that. Tell ya what…why don't you drive back to the station? Captain's bound to be there by now. Just tell him you're a bit shaken up and need to book off early. He'll understand 'cos it's your first week. After that, go to the locker room and get my wallet, car keys, and pants for me so I can change," said Jimmy, glancing down at his torn trousers. "I'll give you the combination to my locker. My car's the brown 1964 Vista Cruiser. You can't miss it. Drive it back here and I'll give you the cab fare to get back to the station."

"I don't know, Jimmy. Wouldn't it be easier if I just took you back to the station and you drove yourself back here?"

"Nah, I don't think so, Joe," Jimmy muttered. _How the hell would you understand, kid, that seeing Coop's car in the parking lot would tear me up more than waiting here?_

"You shouldn't wait alone," said Joe, scuffing one shoe along the linoleum floor. "Tell ya what...I'll call the station and ask Captain Stinson if I can stay. He seemed reasonable enough when I met him. McCree _did_ say to stay with you so I don't think a phone call to the Captain is breaking McCree's orders."

Jimmy averted his eyes so Joe wouldn't see his relief. "Uh, if ya really want to, I guess" said Jimmy, trying to sound casual.

Joe looked up. "Well, I really don't want to be in this place," Joe admitted finally. "Bad memories and all. But staying with you is the right thing to do."

"Thanks, kid. Appreciate it," said Jimmy quietly.

Joe grinned. "Just one favour I ask in return, Jimmy."

"What's that, kid?" asked Jimmy.

"Please don't call me kid. People always do and I really hate it," Joe mumbled.

"Sure, Joe. No problem! I can do that," said Jimmy with a slight grin.

* * *

Danny leaned back on the sofa in Coop's living room. After it had become clear Coop's cries wouldn't let up quickly, Danny had steered Coop back into the living room. As he held Coop's shaking body, Danny felt guilty for being the catalyst of Coop's latest torture. Danny began to shiver as Coop's tears began to soak onto his skin.

"You okay, Danny?" Coop whispered as he felt Danny's shoulder begin to tremble below his cheek.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Danny lied. "Don't worry about me. Just do what you need to do."

"Nah, I'm done," Coop mumbled, raising himself off Danny. Coop's eyes were blood shot and he looked about in vain for something to wipe his face with.

Sensing what Coop was after, Danny reached into his jacket pocket. "Here, Coop, take this."

"Thanks, Danny," said Coop as he wiped his face dry and blew his nose into the handkerchief. Looking at the soiled cloth in his hands, Coop felt warmth spread across his face.

"Don't worry about it. I can clean it later," said Danny. "You feeling okay?"

Coop looked over at the cushion beside him. "My throat hurts like hell. I think I need some water. I promise to drink it this time, Danny."

Spotting the empty glass on the floor, Danny snapped his fingers and laughed as he heard Coop's gasp.

Taking the glass with a trembling hand, Coop drained the glass quickly. "Still can't get used to you doing that, Danny," Coop muttered, placing the glass on the coffee table.

"Yeah, I know. It's a strange thing when you're not accustomed to it. I felt the same way the first few times I saw it," Danny admitted. "So, you feel okay now, Coop?"

"I dunno. I just feel sort of…hollow," said Coop, mopping sweat on his brow with the bottom of his T-shirt.

"Well, that's normal. After releasing all that emotion, you're bound to shutdown for a bit. But it'll help you process things better without all that stuff hanging around in your head," Danny pointed out.

"Maybe," said Coop with a shrug. "Anyways, guess I'm ready to talk now," Coop muttered, leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest.

Danny smiled. "Great. What would you like to talk about?"

Coop's brow furrowed. "I dunno. I told myself so many times after you died that if I could see you again, I'd have so much to say to you, Danny. But now that you're here, I can't just can't think of anything."

Danny swung an arm around Coop's shoulders. "It's alright, Coop. If it helps, I can ask you some questions to get things started?"

Coop sighed. "I guess. I sure as hell don't have any better ideas."

"Good," said Danny, getting to his feet. "First question I have to ask you is how can you think you've ruined Jimmy's life when it's so evident how happy you've made him?"

Coop studied the brown wooden coffee table in front of him. "Danny, how else could I think after what Jimmy told me a few hours ago? He told me to find a new partner. That killed everything we had," Coop replied, looking miserable.

Danny's heart winced with Coop's reply, but he at last saw a chance to punch through Coop's defenses. "So, I guess that means the thoughts you had up at the gates were pure bullshit too, huh?"

"What?" Coop asked, staring at Danny in confusion.

"You decided up there that the reason you didn't want to go to Eternity was because you couldn't stand to leave Jimmy alone in the world. Are you trying to tell me that was a lie, Coop?" asked Danny.

Coop's jaw clenched. "No, it wasn't a lie," Coop muttered as he began thumbing his belt buckle.

"Oh, but it much be!" said Danny, looking shocked. "Why else would you be telling me the love you two had is dead?"

"It's not bullshit!" growled Coop. "I'm just having hard time letting go of what he said to me, that's all. But you were right before, about Jimmy being scared. I know he is. I-I don't think he would've begged me to hold on over the radio if he didn't still care about me somehow," Coop whispered as the realization came upon him.

"Nah, I don't think that's true, Coop. People never regret the horrible things they say to each other. Jimmy's never a hothead. He's never said things to you he didn't mean," Danny persisted, crossing his arms as he towered over Coop.

"That ain't true," Coop muttered, getting up to face Danny. "Hell, the first time we kissed happened because Jimmy said shit to me he didn't mean. I just didn't realize then what we were doing could wreck his life."

Danny softened his gaze, heartened Coop was making progress at last. "Then tell me, Coop. Tell me just how what's happened between you and Jimmy is ruining his life?"


	17. Confrontations

The long line to the reception desk was at last beginning to move, but the man behind Jimmy had to keep nudging him forward. The adrenalin that had earlier fueled him had long since dissipated. Jimmy began to wonder if he would collapse right there in the line.

"Hey, Jimmy! Sorry I took so long, the line at the courtesy phone was crazy! Some broad took pity on me and gave me a dime for the payphone! Stinson said I could stay a while!" Joe exclaimed as he came alongside Jimmy.

Turning to Joe, Jimmy offered him a slight smile. "That's good. Stinson's always been a pretty reasonable guy, though," Jimmy murmured quietly.

"You got that right! I like him a lot better than McCree!" Joe declared. The sting of McCree's insults was still raw and Joe grimaced at the memory.

"Well, McCree can be a bit blunt," Jimmy admitted, studying his scuffed shoes. "But he's really not such a bad guy once you get to know him and he realizes you're willing to work hard."

"I hope you're right, Jimmy. I really don't want to end up like Bon Boivin," Joe admitted, embarrassed to be exposing his secret fear. Word about Bon Boivin's antics from the day previous had spread through the station quickly.

"Nah, you won't. You got something Bon Boivin didn't: common sense," Jimmy pointed out.

"Thanks Jimmy, that means a lot."

"Anyways, Joe, hope ya don't mind if I go grab a seat? Those painkillers are starting to wear off and I'm beginning to feel pretty sore," Jimmy muttered.

Remembering Nurse Raynor's earlier warning, Joe nodded his head. "Fine with me. That spill you took earlier was pretty nasty. Hell, I'd probably have just kept lying on the pavement if it had been me. So go for it; I'll hold down the fort and come get you when it's time," said Joe, giving Jimmy a sympathetic gaze.

"Oh, when the adrenalin kicks in, you'll be able to do things you never thought possible. Thanks for staying here though. Appreciate it," Jimmy mumbled, scanning along the walls for a vacant seat. Spotting one at last near the exit, Jimmy walked over as fast as his screaming knees would let him. Each step was torture and Jimmy began to think the treatment had only magnified the pain.

Sinking into a chair beside an elderly man dressed in a long, striped flannel nightshirt, Jimmy sighed. He began to wonder about giving Eileen a call. His watch said 5 am and Eileen was expecting him home by 9 am so he could join the family for Mass. But what had happened tonight was extreme; Eileen was certain to understand why he had to stay at the hospital. After a year of spending lots of time at the Bruno household, Coop had become more than just Jimmy's partner; he had become one of the family and godfather to their newborn son.

It was that recognition that made Jimmy decide against calling home. Telling Eileen now what had happened would be useless when Jimmy had almost no information to offer her. Jimmy also dreaded his son Adam and daughter Patty finding out about Coop. Four and too young to understand what had happened, Patty was emotional and was certain to spend the day in tears if she found out about Coop. Adam took after his old man; both would pretend what was happening was no big deal, but would bury it inside until they had a moment to grieve in private. A few more hours free of worry and anguish was the best gift Jimmy could now give his family.

Jimmy leaned back and closed his eyes as he felt sleep winning the battle once again. Within a few minutes, he passed out and spared of the worry and guilt that had been stalking him like a shadow the entire night.

* * *

"Well Coop, I'm still waiting for an answer here," Danny stated for the fourth time as he paced back and forth through Coop's living room. Despite Coop having claimed several times he was ruining Jimmy's life, Coop still had no answer for Danny.

"I told ya, I'm thinking!" Coop muttered, scratching his chest.

Danny quit his pacing and walked over to Coop, forcing Coop to look at him. "Geez, Coop, you always have such strong opinions about everything. So I find it puzzling you've not given me much proof of this whole "You're Ruining Jimmy's Life" theory."

Groaning, Coop got up and glared at Danny. "Just what the hell is it you want to say?"

Danny sighed and cramming his hands into his pockets. "I just want you to tell me _why_ you think you're wrecking Jimmy's life. That's all."

"You're God's, I mean this boss guy's, right hand man, Danny. Shouldn't ya already know all this stuff?" Coop sneered and shook his head. "What's the point of me rehashing what ya already know?"

"Because I don't know, Coop! That's the point!" persisted Danny, his eyes narrowing at Coop in frustration. "For me to help you, I haveto understand why you think the way you do. Unless you tell me, I can't understand, can I?"

"Whatever," Coop muttered, twisting the cotton of his his T-shirt with one hand. "I told ya Danny that you were wasting your time here. Ya can't say I didn't warn ya."

Danny ground his teeth and appraised Coop's sullen face. Coop had always been an exercise in extremes that had driven him crazy. Coop's moods changed with the wind. Cocky and laughing one moment, it had never taken much to transform Coop into a brooding figure with blazing eyes within seconds. When Danny had first experienced these moods, he'd always been afraid that the wrong word would get him decked. But with time had come experience and Danny had learned to handle the angry phases Coop was prone to. To break through to him, one had to be just as confrontational as Coop.

A scowl twisted Danny's face and he slammed a hand onto the coffee table. "Fine, I'm through! I forgot talking to you was just as useless as talking to a brick wall!" Danny yelled, spinning on his heel to leave the living room.

For a moment, Coop was frozen. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Danny's calm demeanor shatter. "Danny, wait!" Coop called.

Danny turned around. "Yes, Coop? What is it?"

"Look, I'm sorry for giving ya a hard time," said Coop, staring at the carpet. "It's just I've never found talking about this stuff easy. I mean, I know you get some of what I'm going through. But it's still hard."

A wry smile crossing his face, Danny walked up to Coop. "I know, Coop. I might seem to have it all figured out, but I'm not sure that I do. I used to project the image in life that I was confident about being gay. But to tell you the real truth, I was scared stiff most of the time."

"Gay? What's that?" Coop asked, his eyes widening. "You're not calling being a homo a happy experience, are ya?"

"No, not exactly," Danny admitted. "We call being a homo or queer as being gay upstairs. Gives it more of a positive ring. I'm thinking the term will eventually be used down here. It's like how black people don't like to be called…well, you know," said Danny, colour creeping into his face.

"Man, I hate slurs like that!" Coop declared bitterly. "But you were always braver at handling this, Danny."

His smile fading, Danny shook his head. "You got yourself a case of "Pedestal Syndrome", Coop."

"What's that?"

Danny sighed. "It happens after somebody dies. In your grief, you elevate people to this revered status. In your mind, I was flawless in life. But it's not true, Coop. I have my faults. I wasn't as confident about being gay as you think. Do you remember Deborah?"

Coop scratched his head and searched his memories. "Your girlfriend, right?" Coop asked at last.

Danny nodded. "Yeah, my attempt to convince myself that I didn't like men. I almost asked her to marry me."

Coop's eyes widened. "I never knew that. Guess it makes senses, though. You two were pretty serious. Fuck, me walking in on you and Hank by accident was a shock it took me a long time to come to grips with it."

Danny looked down.

* * *

_After a few days teasing at summer, late April 1963 had cooled down and left the baseball team shivering during their early morning practices. Back at last after an extended road trip, a freshly showered Danny had been happy to spend some quiet time with Hank Phillips, a fellow law student. At first just friends, Danny had become unable to hide his attraction towards the tall, black haired Hank. From their first law class, Hank's brown, soulful eyes had stood out to Danny. To his elation, Hank had returned his affections and Danny had quickly found himself living a double life: the normal life with a serious girlfriend and living the real life he desired in secret._

_After quickly rinsing away that morning's sweat and grime, Coop dressed and gathered up Danny's baseball glove. Coop decided to drop it off at Danny's dorm room before he forgot. That morning, Coop had realized in a panic he had left his glove at Cornell and knew he didn't have a spare glove in good working condition. After telling Danny his dilemma, Danny had rummaged around in his closet for his spare glove and had given it to a grateful Coop. Adding that on to the tab of favours he owed Danny, Coop whistled as he headed up to Danny's floor._

_Seeing Danny's door closed, Coop didn't hesitate to open it. Danny had barged into his room without knocking dozens of times. Coop could never understand why Danny always got so irritated when he did the same thing. Banging the door open, Coop paled at what he saw._

_Kissing passionately, Danny and Hank leaped off the bed as they heard the door slam against the wall. Their eyes turned wide in surprise and their faces whitened as they noticed Coop looming above them._

_"I, uh, just came to return your glove, Danny," Coop stammered, his left fist balling up as he walked over to Danny's desk and placed the glove on it. "I got a big paper due, so I gotta go," said Coop, making a beeline for the hallway._

_"Coop, wait!" Danny called. He rushed ahead of Coop and slammed the door to block Coop's exit._

_Coop looked down as his sneakers. Hank remained frozen in place._

_Unbuttoning his sweater and throwing it at the bed, Danny tried to straighten his tousled hair. "Coop, I swear I can explain what you just saw. It wasn't what it looked like."_

_Coop lifted his head. "Danny, I know what I just saw. Ya two were making out," Coop accused in a trembling voice. "Think I'm stupid or something?"_

_Hank began playing with the watch on his left wrist as sweat began to pour down his brow. If Coop told_ anyone _about what he had just seen, his and Danny's lives would be ruined._

_"Alright, Coop." Danny sighed as he looked at his poster of Mickey Mantle. "You saw what you saw. Me and Hank were kissing. We're fags. There. Does the truth make you happy?"_

_Hank and Coop both winced Danny's bluntness. "Why would that make me happy, Danny?" Coop asked, raising his head as Danny turned to face him._

_"I dunno" Danny muttered. "I know this is something that won't happen, but do you think you could entertain the thought of not telling anybody? You know, just keeping this quiet?"_

_"Yeah. I won't tell anyone, Danny. Ya got my word. Besides, I ain't in much of a position to judge you two anyways," Coop mumbled, saying the last sentence under his breath._

_"What do you mean?" Danny asked, curiosity beginning to take the place of anxiety._

_Shit! Coop thought as he stared at Danny's green bedspread. "Nothing, Danny. Just meant I promise not to say anything."_

_"Nah, I heard what you said! How would you not be in a position to judge us? You're a playboy, Coop. You have no idea what it's like to have to hide something like this," Danny stated, crossing his arms._

_Coop had smirked as his clouded. "Ya think you know everything, don't ya, Danny? Alright, since there's no secrets here, you, me, and Hank here all got the same sickness. So I stand by what I said. I can't judge you two for something that I'm guilty of myself," Coop had mumbled, wiping his sopping hands on his jeans._

* * *

"It was just as big a shock for me as it was for you," Danny admitted, resuming his pacing. "There goes another thing you thought about me: I did lie about things."

"Well, we got through it," Coop reminded Danny. "Though you were braver than I was. I never had the courage until this year to even try and accept the whole being queer thing. I'm sorry, but I just can't call it being gay. It's like an oxymoron to me."

"That's okay." Danny sighed. "Anyway, bravery comes in different forms, Coop," said Danny, taking a seat on the sofa. "You've done stuff that I never could have done."

"Oh yeah, like what?" Coop asked, taking a seat beside Danny.

"You actually admitted to your dad about this whole thing. I never could have told my parents. Remember how I came from Milwaukee? Well, my parents were huge Braves fans. If they had suspected I was cheering for the Phillies against the Braves, I would have been dead to them and never able to go home again. Something like this and…well…" Danny trailed off.

"Yeah, well, telling Pop didn't do me any good, Danny," said Coop, fiddling with the knob of his watch. "I'm dead to him, no matter what I decide."

"I don't know, Coop. Something like this just might make him come around and realize he didn't mean what he said."

"I don't care. Pop can drop dead!" muttered Coop, a shadow crossing his face.

"Coop, you don't really mean that, do you?"

"I guess not," Coop admitted, taking one loafer off and twisting it around his big toe. "Just this whole being in love thing is making me have to confront stuff I never thought I'd have to. I know that sounds rich coming from me, but this is one thing I've always kept quiet about."

"What do you think about being in love has caused you to change?"

Coop leaned back as he considered Danny's question. "I guess it was after kissing Jimmy and I realized what I had thought was an ugly thing really wasn't. After I left his place that morning and got home, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I just wondered why people have twisted something so good into something so evil. And I guess after that, hearing the slurs in the locker room loosened something inside of me."

"That Sunday afternoon you and Jimmy worked together after that Friday?" Danny inquired, staring towards Coop's front window.

"Yeah, that's the day I mean."

* * *

_Sunday June 16, 1968 had been hot and humid. Coop had sweated heavily all the way to station, in spite of driving with all his windows rolled down. The heat did little to help kick away the stupor that had Coop in its grip. After the one good night of sleep he had gotten at Jimmy's Friday night, the nightmares had returned the following night with a vengeance. After recollecting a vicious ambush that had killed several platoon mates around him, Coop had laid in bed wide awake at 3 am._

_After making a pot of coffee and trying to get into a newbook, Coop finally succumbed to fatigue at 9am The same nightmare tormented him again and his alarm clock going off had scared Coop out of his wits. The alarm clock now laid in shattered ruin beneath a dent in his bedroom wall._

_Parking his car, Coop rubbed sleep out of his eyes and made his way into the station. He wiped his sweaty palms off his neatly pressed work pants and tucking his T-shirt in as he made the journey from the parking lot. In the locker room, Coop grabbed a clean shirt off the freshly laundered stack and headed for the lockers. He winced when he noticed the large bruise rimming Jimmy's left eye._

_Looking down, Coop made his way over to his locker and mumbled an apology at Jimmy._

_"Forget it, Coop. It's all good," Jimmy whispered. The black eye had gotten Jimmy plenty of curious glances. But it had easily been explained away as a drug dealer he and Coop had arrested being a bit more aggressive than they had anticipated._

_Buttoning up their shirts and putting on their gunbelts, Jimmy and Coop stole glances at each other. They looked away when they caught each other's eyes. What had happened Friday night was all they could think about. Both wondered just how they would get through the day as if nothing had happened. For the moment, it seemed best to say nothing and try blend into the bantering crowd around them._

_His shirt buttoned and nametag in place, Coop rested his foot on the bench in front of him and sighed. He hoped there would be some coffee in the staff room to top up his low fuel tank._

_Owen Murphy's crowing voice distracted Jimmy and Coop from their nervous thoughts. Following an officer named Montgomery, Murphy was recounting a previous day's arrest with glee. "So, I'm pulling this little queer out of that bathhouse on Monroe Street and he's crying, 'Don't tell my wife, whaa!'" Murphy laughed._

_Entertained by the story, the locker room burst into laughter. Neither Coop nor Jimmy joined in. Coop shot Murphy a dirty look out of the corner of his eye._

_Laughing, Murphy turned his attention to Coop. "You must've taken a lid on the back door in 'Nam, huh Coop? All those lonely jungle nights?" Murphy asked, his beady blue eyes wide with innocence._

_Scoffing and shaking his head, Coop could only mutter, "Right."_

_Feigning shocked surprise, Murphy gestured towards Coop. "See, he agrees. Didn't know you played on their team." Murphy grinned when he was rewarded with more laughter._

_"Shut up, Murph!" Jimmy said irritably, turning back to his locker._

_"Aw, you too, Jimmy? You a fairy queen, or what?" Murphy persisted._

_Grinding his teeth and balling his fists, Coop shot a warning glance at Murphy. "Give it a rest, man."_

_Murphy's face went wide in astonishment. "Oh, I get it! Jimmy and Coop, the Dynamic Duo!"_

_Coop clenched his jaw as his glare turned to ice._

_"You know, they say Batman and Robin are homos!" Murphy crowed, the guys around him snorting in amusement._

_Before Jimmy had time to realize what was happening, Coop took off across the locker room. Gripping Murphy's shirtfront, Coop pinned him against one of the beaten, gray lockers. The locker room fell into an awkward silence._

_Coop snarled at Murphy, "What if I was?"_

_His eyes staring and his mouth hanging open, Murphy mumbled, "Was what?"_

_"A homo, a queer!" Coop spat._

_"Coop, easy!" Jimmy broke in, terrified of what Coop was doing._

_"You one too, huh, Murphy? That your problem, fairy boy?"_

_Glaring at each other fiercely for a few seconds, Murphy suddenly yelled, "Get off me!" as he pushed Coop off him. Heading for the exit, Murphy glowered at Coop. "I ain't no queer! You get that straight!" he hissed in a cold, low voice._

_The locker room had gaped at Coop. Coop had glared back at them, daring them to contradict him. Losing interest, the guys had begun to go drift back to what they had been doing. Coop had walked back to his locker in angry silence, refusing to look at Jimmy._

* * *

"It was a stupid thing to do, letting that moron Murphy get to me," Coop admitted, running his hands through his dripping hair. "But something just didn't feel right. I just couldn't ignore the slurs anymore. Didn't matter if they were just jokes. Jimmy didn't see it that way. He sure chewed my head off when we got into the cruiser together. I think that's when I started thinking what we had done wasn't such a good thing for Jimmy. I kept myself in denial up until last night, thought. Even after everything with Pop and Eileen."

"It's not your fault the world doesn't understand this, Coop. And you know that. That's why you stood up for yourself in the locker room. I don't see how that one event would make you think you're ruining Jimmy's life," said Danny, glancing at a watercolour painting of a Hawaiian beach above the sofa he and Coop were seated on.

"Brenda, my ex-girlfriend, painted that," Coop explained. He hoped Danny would take the bait and change the topic.

"She was a good artist?"

"Yeah, she was okay. She wasn't a bad person. But she loved wigs too much and they fell apart everywhere. For a week after we broke up I was still sneezing!" Coop chuckled and a broad grin spread across his face.

"Nice try, Coop. We're still talking about Jimmy. Whether you want to or not," said Danny firmly.

"Alright." Coop sighed. "Mind if I take a minute to go grab the beer I left on the table? Please don't do your magic tricks. I need to do it myself."

"Alright, Coop. I can live with that."

* * *

_The graffiti sprayed, rubbish strewn parking lot and the old man walking into it are familiar sights to Jimmy. Though Jimmy thinks hard, he can't quite put his finger on where he's seen them before._

_Then it comes to Jimmy with a start. The figure with greying hair, watery blue eyes, and a lined face is him almost forty years older. The 5th District Police Station has long left for better pastures and has been transformed into a local recreation centre._

_Suddenly, Jimmy spots a shiny red and white patrol car, long out of use by the Philadelphia Police Department. Standing beside the car is the love Jimmy hasn't seen for decades: a broad shouldered kid with a small, arrogant smirk looking at him with longing eyes. Not seeming surprised at seeing Jimmy, Coop places his hand on the car's trunk and waits for Jimmy to approach him._

_Trepidation coursing through him, Jimmy walks over to Coop and feels the years flying away as he's transformed back into a young police officer. Placing his hand over Coop's, Jimmy smiles at Coop and is rewarded not with a smirk, but a genuine smile Coop seldom gave anyone else._

_Coop and the patrol car then fade away into the still night and Jimmy is forced once more to live in a world without Coop._

* * *

Jimmy woke up with a start, cold sweat dripping down his face.


	18. The Fire Burns

With a shaking hand, Jimmy wiped sweat from his forehead. Yet, he began to shiver with chattering teeth. The emergency area was stuffy from the heat from too many bodies crammed into a space far too cramped. But the heat didn't touch Jimmy's chilled core as he got to his feet and looked for Joe in the long line-up.

Spotting Joe near the front of the line, Jimmy limped towards him. His tried to ricochet away the dream that kept trying to re-enter his subconscious. Jimmy had been taught throughout his Catholic upbringing that the Lord worked in mysterious ways, often providing guidance in signs that were too difficult for the mere moral to interpret. But the meaning implied in his dream seemed clear enough; Jimmy refused to believe that Coop would only leave Penn General in a hearse. Coop _had_ to be okay; no other alternative was acceptable.

Walking up to Joe, Jimmy let out a sigh when he noticed Joe's drooping eyes. Joe's left leg and foot were tapping against the floor rapidly in an effort to stay awake. Jimmy gave Joe a soft nudge, but the movement was still too sudden. Joe jumped and let out a loud gasp.

"Geez, it's just me, kid," Jimmy whispered, forgetting his earlier promise as he pulled Joe back into line.

"Sorry. You just startled me is all," Joe muttered, looking down at the white linoleum floor as his ears turned bright red.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Look, Joe, you're exhausted. Take the patrol car back to the station and head home. I'll be fine waiting here."

"No! I'm not going anywhere!" Joe protested, lifting his head. The sharp gaze from his intense brown eyes made Jimmy wince. "I made ya a promise. Besides, if you think I'm so tired, probably ain't a good idea for me to be driving anyways!"

"Well, guess you got a point there," Jimmy admitted. "Look, why don't _you_ go take a seat for a while? I'll come get ya when I got some idea of where we're supposed to go."

"What do you think I am, some sort of wimp?!" Joe demanded a furious whisper, his eyes turning into narrow slits. "If you can stand here after that spill you took, so can I!"

"Fine, do whatever ya want," Jimmy muttered. His attention was quickly captured by the redheaded receptionist trying to process incoming patients in the few moments the phone beside her wasn't ringing off the hook.

* * *

"Coop, you coming back out here or what?" Danny called. He cracked a knuckle impatiently; a quarter of an hour had crept by with no sign of Coop emerging from the kitchen.

"I'm coming! Just give me a minute!" Coop shouted back, the sound of glasses tinkling.

"We're on a tight timeline, Coop! You have one minute and I'm timing it!" Danny replied crisply, staring at his watch.

"I'm here, I'm here! Sheesh," Coop muttered, swaggering back into the living room. Coop had Danny's gin and tonic in one hand, a case of Ballantine Ales in the other. "I thought I'd be a good host and make ya a fresh drink. If I'd known you'd bitch and whine about it..."

"That's enough, Coop!" Danny interrupted, staring up at the ceiling. He began to count to ten under his breath.

"I even grabbed an entire case of beer so I can get drunk here without having to make any more trips" Coop pointed out, slamming Danny's glass on the coffee table.

Smirking and satisfied at seeing Danny startle, Coop placed the beer case by his armchair. Kicking off his loafers,, Coop rested his feet on the ottoman.

"Alright, thanks for remaking my drink. Appreciate it," Danny said, taking a long sip. The fierce burning of alcohol hit Danny's tongue and Danny spat the fire out onto his lap.

Doubling over in laughter, Coop slapped a knee. "Some things never change, huh Danny?" asked Coop, trying to catch his breath.

"You know, Coop, when you make a gin and tonic, the alcohol is supposed to be subtle, not make up the entire drink." Danny groaned as he used his handkerchief to mop up the gin he had spat onto his pants.

"Aw, was just trying to help ya out. Figured some extra gin would loosen you up and help the stick up your ass fall out," Coop remarked, leaning back into his chair.

"Sorry if I strike you as being too serious. But what I do doesn't give me much time to fool around," said Danny evenly. "Anyways, you might as well know I can't get drunk. Neither can you, for that matter.

"You're right, Danny," admitted Coop. "It does take more than twelve beers to get me buzzed these days. Guess I'd better go grab some whiskey from the kitchen." Coop began to rise out of his seat, but stopped when Danny raised a hand.

"That's not what I meant, Coop. I know there's a rule somewhere about this," Danny mumbled, fiddling around in the chest pocket of his suit jacket. "Ah, here it is," said Danny, pulling out a minute book that looked like a doll accessory.

"Wait. You can actually read the print in that thing?" asked Coop in disbelief as Danny opened up the tiny book on his lap.

"I will be able to in a sec," Danny replied, working up saliva and spitting hard onto the book. Within moments, the book enlarged in size so it was wider than Danny's narrow lap. Danny looked smug when he noticed Coop's mouth hanging open.

"Anyways, let's see," Danny muttered, flipping through the book's thick leaves. "Ah, here it is: 'Consuming Alcohol", rule two, subsection k: While alcohol may be consumed if required for social purposes, the Agent and Client are hereby advised the earthly effects of said beverages will not transpire," Danny read aloud, his eyes squinting at the small print. "Yeah, that's what I was looking for," said Danny, snapping his fingers. In a puff of smoke that filled the room, the book shrank and flew back into Danny's suit pocket.

"What?! Ya gotta to be shitting me!" yelled Coop when the air cleared, slamming a balled up fist onto his armrest.

"No, Coop, I'm being perfectly serious. The rule is in place for a very good reason," explained Danny, putting his arms behind his head.

"Oh, that's good. I'd hate for such a stupid rule to be in place for nothing. It's good that drinking this piss flavoured shit is in vain," Coop muttered sarcastically.

Danny sighed and began cracking his knuckles.

"The rule's there to prevent people from saying or doing things they will regret. That seems to be what alcohol usually does. At least in your case; you know full well Coop that you can get pretty volatile when you're drinking. You and I both also know how impulsive you are. That being said, the Boss sure wouldn't risk letting you have any extra encouragement towards the wrong choice. Just because you're saying you don't wanna to stay on Earth now doesn't mean that's what you really want, right?"

Rolling his eyes, Coop put a hand to his chin as he digested Danny's reply. He couldn't imagine living in a world without alcohol to blunt what he was desperate to forget.

"Hmmm, tick one mark into the "I Want to Live" column, Danny," Coop replied drily.

Danny groaned at Coop's dark humour, but couldn't stop the slight smile from touching his lips.

"So...you do remember how to take a joke after all, Danny." Coop smirked at him in triumph.

"I don't think I ever forgot. I just need to be reminded sometimes."

"Anyways, is playing games against those rules of yours?" Coop asked, standing up and looming over Danny.

Danny looked up at Coop and frowned. "I'm here to work and talk things out with you. Not play."

"I just find it easier to talk over a game of poker or gin," Coop replied, pulling at the ringed collar of his T-shirt. "I usually let the booze help me out with that. But since you're saying that option is closed to me, I'm improvising."

"Fine, go get a deck of cards. I'll meet you in the kitchen," Danny said in exasperation as he got off the sofa. "I swear though, Coop, if you try to put me off after that, I will glue you to whatever piece of furniture you happen to be sitting on. And you know bluffing isn't my poker style."

"Fuck! Don't you threaten me, Danny!" Coop snarled, his eyes popping out as he glowered at Danny. "I don't care where we are, but this is my place. My house, my rules. If you don't like it you can leave!"

Danny flinched, but for only a moment as he glared back. "And you sure as hell don't need to lose your temper with me! Danny shouted. "I didn't have to come here, you know. But when the Boss asked me, I didn't hesitate. I wanted to do something to help out an old friend. But let me tell you that I do question being here when you sure as hell don't seem to care about anything I'm trying to tell you, Coop. Hell, maybe you were right. Maybe you are a lost cause and I am just wasting my time," Danny muttered, shaking his head.

Coop's eyes burned at Danny before turning their attention to the carpet.

Though Coop didn't reply to Danny's barb, Danny knew the arrow had struck its target and that the tip had hurt keenly. "Coop, I'm sorry, that was a low blow…" Danny began, hesitating when he saw Coop's right hand clench into a fist. "I'm just frustrated. I didn't mean…whoa!"

Danny had a second to vanish before Coop's fist sliced through the air where Danny's head had been only a moment before.

Pulling himself back before he crashed into the coffee table, Coop's eyes darted around the room for Danny. Coop let out a yelp when he felt the light tap on his shoulder.

"Jesus Christ! I told you to stop with fucking magic tricks!" Coop yelled, his face darkening with rage as he spun around. "Fuck, Danny! You're a coward who can't even fight fair!"

Danny trembled with anger, but his calm voice belied the cauldron boiling within. "Nothing fair about trying to sucker punch me, Coop. Besides, you beating me up won't accomplish anything. Will it?"

"Whatever! I'm finished with you!" Coop bellowed, storming out of the living room.

Danny tried to keep up with Coop's long strides, but he only got into the kitchen in time to see the white cellar door slam with a force that almost knocked the empty glasses on the counter to the linoleum floor.

Taking the steps two a time, Coop gripped the bannister as he took a long leap off the last step. Forgetting he had removed his shoes, the landing sent spurs of pain through his ankles. Coop gritted his teeth as he walked towards the corner of the basement where he kept his empty whiskey and rum bottles. Lugging the burlap sack to the centre of the cellar, Coop began pitching the bottles one by one against the dingy concrete walls. The bottles shattered and ricocheted off the cement, almost hitting Coop several times.

The sounds of breaking glass made Danny jump, but vowed to stay until physical exertion doused away some of the fire fueling Coop's rage. Grabbing a chair, Danny rested his elbow on the kitchen table and studied the yellow painted walls. Danny tried to comprehend how the situation between him and Coop had changed so swiftly.

* * *

Stifling a huge yawn, Jimmy felt relief as he and Joe's turn at the reception desk finally came.

The receptionist, who had earlier been so chirpy that she had struck Jimmy as out of place in a hospital as Jimi Hendrix in the Vatican, had taken on the appearance Jimmy felt. Strands of hair had come loose from her bun and had spread out in all directions. Dark circles smudging her eyes, the receptionist's glasses hung precariously near the tip of her nose.

"Ah, you two again," the receptionist acknowledged in a wary voice as Jimmy and Joe came into focus. "I'm sorry, but it's been a madhouse up here, so I've not been able to give the surgical resident a ring. If you just give me a moment, I'll try to do that now." Groaning in frustration as another phone behind her began to ring, the receptionist began dialing a three digit extension on the gray rotary phone.

Watching the receptionist beginning to speak into the phone in a low voice, Jimmy turned to Joe and pulled the fidgeting form forward. "Joe, relax, we're almost out of this line," Jimmy hissed at him.

"Helps keep me awake," Joe muttered, the tapping of his foot increasing in intensity.

"Well, it ain't working. You look like shit," Jimmy remarked, eying Joe's red rimmed eyes and pale face.

"You're not exactly a sight for sore eyes either, Jimmy," Joe shot back, ceasing his frenzied movement for a time. Jimmy's red polo shirt was stretched out of shape and pulled awkwardly over his gunbelt and torn pants. Jimmy's eyes looked more bloodshot than ever and the stitches embedded in Jimmy's swollen lip reminded Joe of Frankenstein's monster.

"Touché, kid," Jimmy mumbled as he ran a hand through his soaked hair.

"I told you _not_ to call me...," Joe began, before being cut off by the receptionist.

"I finally got through to someone," the receptionist said, slamming the receiver onto the hook. "That officer, his name Sean Cooper?"

"Yeah, it is," Jimmy confirmed, the information taking a few seconds to register. As far as Jimmy could remember, he only heard Father Mack and Elizabeth, Coop's mother, call Coop "Sean." Hell, most of the guys on the force probably didn't know Sean was Coop's real name.

"Well, he's still in surgery. I don't know what sort of condition he's in; the resident hasn't seen him in a good couple hours, but things were very critical then. He did say his parents and a priest, a Father something, are in a private waiting area. You can head up there, if you want. If you do, I'll get an orderly to show you where to go."

"Please! I know them all!" Jimmy exclaimed.

"Alright, just let me page someone," said the receptionist, digging through a mound of papers for the intercom speaker.

Jimmy turned to Joe, about to tell the rookie he was free to go. But Jimmy sensed that would be a mistake the moment his gaze caught Joe's rumpled hair. Joe had put his uniform shirt back on, but it was unbuttoned and rested in disheveled confusion over his white T-shirt. The adrenalin that had fueled the kid the past couple hours had clearly burned out. Jimmy feared Joe would pass out onto the hard floor beneath their sore feet.

Putting a hand on Joe's shoulder, Jimmy whispered, "Hang in there, kid. We're almost done here. Don't fall asleep on me now."

"I'm not falling asleep!" Joe shot back, loud enough that the man behind him jumped.

"Fine, kid. Whatever you say," Jimmy muttered. He groaned inwardly as he waited for the orderly to make an appearance.

* * *

Heaving the last bottle with a weak throw, Coop panted heavily as he lowered himself onto the torn yellow sofa.

Leaning back, Coop pulled the white sheet he had abandoned the previous day into his hands and used it as a makeshift fan to cool off his streaming face. Once he had caught his breath, Coop dropped the sheet and grabbed the green-cloth Wordsworth book. Idly, Coop began to flip thorough the pages as he tried to gather the courage to head back up to the kitchen. Though he didn't want to admit, Coop was afraid to face Danny. Hell, he was unsure if his Danny was even in the house still.

The book failing to capture his interest, Coop tossed it back onto the cardboard side table in frustration. _A few hours back all I wanted was a chance to talk to you again, Danny. Just what the hell went wrong here?_

Recalling all they had discussed, Coop got up and began pacing. His stomach turned as an uncomfortable realization came upon him: _he_ had been the one to spark the fire and rift between himself and Danny. Ever patient, Danny had reasoned with him throughout the morning, even when Coop had rebuffed him. Almost never satisfied with the viewpoints of others, Coop thought his opinions supreme and it took a lot for him to ever see he was wrong about something.

Coop curled his toes. _Fuck, Jimmy was right. It_ is _time for a change. I don't think I'm dead yet. So maybe it ain't too late to tell Danny I'm sorry and that I will listen to him. Even if it's difficult for me to hear.  
_

Clenching his fists, Coop closed his eyes. He ttied to calm his trembling body before making the journey up the wooden stairs.

* * *

"Joe, quit dragging your feet! We're almost at the waiting room!" Jimmy hissed as he tried to keep the white uniformed orderly in sight. It had only been a five minute walk, but Jimmy had had to pull Joe almost the entire way.

"Aw, shut up," Joe mumbled, rubbing one eye with his free hand. "Why didn't you tell me I should keep money on hand for coffee?"

Jimmy groaned as they continued their journey up another long corridor and began catching up with the orderly. "I figured you'd be smart enough to know you'd need money for your meal break. Do we have to spoon feed you rookies everything?"

"No, I forgot is all." Joe stopped walking and scowled at Jimmy.

Feeling his arm tug, Jimmy stopped walking. He glared at Joe in frustration. "Look, you can have a temper tantrum on someone else's dime. You either come with me or I tell McCree and Stinson you directly disobeyed the command of a superior officer. It's your call, kid."

Joe gave Jimmy a sullen glance, but said nothing as he began walking so fast that Jimmy feared that his arm would be ripped out of its socket.

Coming up to a closed door with blind drawn over its window, the orderly raised a hand for Jimmy and Joe to stop.

"Okay, I got the parents of the cop you've been asking about and some priest waiting in there. I'm gonna see if it's okay for you two to join them. What are your names again?" The orderly whipped his long chestnut bangs off his forehead as he awaited Jimmy's answer.

"Jimmy Bruno, Sean Cooper's partner. And this is Joseph Malone, the rookie I was training tonight. They all know who I am. Can you make this quick?" Jimmy asked tersely, his tongue feeling strange after calling Coop "Sean."

"Yeah, just gimme a second. I know you guys were waiting for a long time. This place has been nuts tonight." The orderly sighed as he knocked on the door.

"Come in!" bellowed Serge's voice.

Making his way into the waiting room, the orderly shut the door behind him and left Jimmy and Joe waiting.

Joe had wrestled his hand out of Jimmy's grasp and leaned against the wall opposite. A scowl twisted his face as Joe began re-buttoning his shirt. Jimmy felt guilty for his outburst a few minutes before.

"Joe," said Jimmy as he came alongside Joe and leaned on the wall beside him. "Please forget what I said earlier. I run my mouth when I'm upset; tonight has been total hell for me and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"Well, a lot of what you said was true," Joe admitted, tucking his shirt into his pants. "I'm tired and was trying to make a point. Now ain't the time to do it, though. Let's just say we're both sorry and move on. We've been through enough tonight without making enemies out of each other," Joe muttered as he stared at the closed door in front of him. He shuddered at the memory of Coop's warm blood gushing onto his hand.

"It's a deal, let's shake on it," Jimmy whispered, holding his right hand out to Joe.

Giving Jimmy a solemn expression, Joe crossed his arms and shook Jimmy's hand with his own right.

Just as Jimmy and Joe finished their handshake, the waiting room door opened and the orderly came into the hallway.

"You guys can go in now," directed the orderly. "Just took me a few moment to convince the Colonel in there I got no clue how his kid is doing. Hell, I don't even work on this floor!"

"Thanks, you can go now," ordered Jimmy. "We'll handle things from here."

"Good luck. You'll need it if you're going into that dragon's den!" the orderly shot back as he began to disappear down the hallway.

Seeing Joe hesitate, Jimmy grabbed his elbow and pulled him forward into the waiting room, shutting the door behind them.

"Jimmy! Thank God you're here!" Coop's mother Elizabeth cried as she got up from her seat and threw her arms around Jimmy's torso. Her fine blonde hair beginning to creep out of its neat braid, Elizabeth looked like she had aged twenty years in the three weeks that had elapsed since the baptism of Jimmy's son.

Putting his arms around Elizabeth's shaking body, Jimmy began to glance around the small white room. Father Mack, who had been seated beside Elizabeth in an attempt to comfort her, got up from his seat and approached Jimmy. Father Mack's green eyes were watery and he wore a crumpled tweed jacket over his black shirt and pants.

"It's good to see you, James," Father Mack whispered, putting a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. If he had noticed Jimmy's beaten face, Father Mack hid his reaction well.

"Got here as soon as I could, Father," Jimmy muttered, wincing as Elizabeth's long nails began digging into his back.

His jacket and tie flung over the back of his chair, Serge remained seated. He looked up at Jimmy with bleary, pale blue eyes. A few hours previous, Serge had hated Jimmy Bruno with every fibre of his being. But that hate had been snuffed out in the moments after he had heard Coop had been shot.

I don't care what you are, Coop. Not anymore. I just want you to be okay, Serge thought desperately, looking at Jimmy as if he were in a trance.

Joe hung back and leaned against the door, watching the scene before him in awkward silence.

Gently, Father Mack eased Elizabeth off of Jimmy and directed her back to her seat. "Elizabeth, come sit down. Your collapse isn't going to help Sean," Father Mack whispered into her ear.

Sobbing, Elizabeth fell back onto her seat. Father Mack took a seat beside her and put an arm around her. Elizabeth turned to Father Mack and laid herself on his chest as she continued to cry bitterly.

"Remember, God is watching over Sean, Elizabeth," Father Mack said soothingly. "He is directing the doctors to give Sean the best care possible."

Thinking that looking at Elizabeth any longer would make him start bawling, Jimmy headed over to Serge and took a seat beside him.

"Jimmy, what the hell happened to you?!" Serge asked in guilty surprise as his eyes fell on Jimmy's face. Knowing Jimmy hadn't gone with Coop to the dispatch that had gone awry, Serge was baffled as to how Jimmy had become injured.

"Took at bit of a tumble, that's all," Jimmy whispered, blushing. "They patched me up downstairs pretty good. Do we know anything yet, Serge? About how Coop's doing?" Jimmy asked.

Serge shook his head slowly as he noticed Joe for the first time. "No, those damn doctors haven't told us a thing since we got here! All we know is Coop's been shot twice, wasn't awake when he got here, and has lost a lot of blood. He's been in surgery for hours now! How can they not tell us anything!" Serge boomed as he got up from his seat and began pacing.

"And just who the hell are you?" Serge demanded, refocusing his furious gaze onto a trembling Joe.

"Brogan!" Elizabeth admonished in a shuddering voice as she looked up from Father Mack's shirtfront.

"I..I…am…uh…" Joe stammered. Serge's face was so like the chalk death one he had seen earlier that night that all his wits scattered.

"This is Joe Malone, the rookie I was training tonight," Jimmy finished, getting up and placing a hand on Joe's shoulder. "He helped call the ambulance for Coop and also helped with first aid at the scene."

"Oh, sorry," Serge muttered, remembering the orderly had been trying to tell him someone else was with Jimmy. Wiping his sweaty palms on his shirt, Serge returned to his seat in a daze.

"Come on Joe, take a seat," Jimmy whispered.

Joe shook his head as he mumbled, "I don't think I'm welcome here, Jimmy."

"Serge is always short with people. Don't take it personal. You're completely shot. Now move it!" Jimmy whispered fiercely.

Rubbing his eyes, Joe took a seat on the opposite side of Jimmy's and leaned back against the white washed wall. He began staring at the florescent light buzzing above his head.

His own fatigue taking back over, Jimmy returned to his seat and put his face in his hands. Jimmy began shivering as his dream of seeing Coop's ghost re-emerged. Jimmy began praying with all his might that Coop's fire was still burning.

* * *

Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, Coop turned the brass handle of the doorknob. He took a deep breath as he made his way back into the kitchen.

Danny looked up, surprised that Coop was making the first move.

"Danny…" Coop began, trailing off as he took a seat at the table opposite Danny.

Danny looked at Coop in quiet anticipation.

"I'm sorry I lost my temper with you…again. I just hate being wrong and having bad stuff confirmed about myself is a double whammy. It's been a bad few weeks for me. Guess it's finally taking its toll," Coop muttered, leaning back in his chair.

"It's okay." Danny sighed, looking at the ground. "I lost my cool, too. And said stuff I didn't mean. We were both wrong. And you're not a lost cause or a waste of my time, Coop. I do like seeing you again. I've missed you."

A pleased grin almost spread across his face, but Coop suppressed it.

"Hell, I've missed you too, Danny. And I'm sorry for calling you a coward. You're not; you're one of the bravest guys I know," Coop admitted.

"Thanks, that means a lot coming from you," Danny said with a smile. "I'm sorry for getting so frustrated. Just forgot how difficult it is to change your mind about things."

"Yeah, add that onto the list of my bad traits," Coop muttered, looking down at his feet.

"It's not a bad thing; it can be a good quality of you harness it the right way," Danny pointed out as he straightened up.

"One good attribute is a sea of bad ones," Coop mumbled. "You here to try and convince me that I shouldn't hate myself, or something?" Coop inquired, still not looking Danny in the eye.

"Not specifically," Danny admitted. "I'm not a fairy godmother who can whip out a magic wand and make everything perfect for you. I'm just here to help you make a choice and provide you with a different perspective on things that, if you decide to go back to Earth, will hopefully make your life a bit easier. Though, I think I get a bit too caught up in the whole lawyer thing. I hate losing cases and I think I got to learn to separate that from this sort of work."

Coop shrugged and got to his feet. "Suppose everything is a learning curve. I'm not sure I'm handling being…uh what do you call people like me?"

"You mean someone between life and death?" asked Danny, pushing back on his chair.

"Yeah, whatever you call it. I'm sure no stellar example of handling this dimension perfect."

Danny got up and stood in front of Coop. "There's really no wrong or right way to act here, Coop. My ultimate goal, really, is to get you to a clear frame of mind to so you can make the right choice. I know you're wondering why the Boss didn't whisk you back to Eternity by now. Aren't you?"

"Um, yeah, the thought did cross my mind," Coop admitted, looking down at the checkered linoleum.

"Well, like being drunk, allowing you to make a choice in the heat of the moment is also something that the Boss has come to realize isn't such a good idea. We expect people to be pretty emotional for the first while. I do admit you're more extreme than I'm used to, Coop. But you've not been processing a lot of emotion lately. Have you?" asked Danny, wringing his hands.

"Fuck, I've sure had some moments today! But yeah, not really, I guess," Coop acknowledged, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Wouldn't really benefit Jimmy or myself to fall apart because of a little nightmare or confrontations with Pop and Eileen. Would it?

"You got me there." Danny sighed. "Suppose a cop can't speak about literature and love in front of drug dealers and bank robbers."

Coop laughed before saying, "If I did that, I'd be out of a job and locked up somewhere."

"But you have to talk about this stuff at some point, Coop. Because keeping it bottled up all the time sure isn't doing you any favours!"

Coop sighed as he looked out the glass back door and onto a lawn in bad need of a cutting. "Danny, if anyone in my life got wind about anything; the writing; the nightmares; the thing with Jimmy...I could never leave my house again."

"Well, I'm not saying to share things with everyone. We both know how society works against guys like us. I meant, at least share things with Jimmy," Danny persisted, joining Coop by the door.

"I do tell him stuff! I tell Jimmy lots of stuff!" Coop protested. "It's just if I shared _everything_ , he'd think I'm crazy. I'm not gonna burden someone like that!"

"Jimmy doesn't think you're crazy. Remember how he told you about his dad fighting in World War II? Jimmy understands how coming back from a war can affect someone," said Dnnay, tapping Coop on the chest.

"Danny, Jimmy's dad fought for almost two years over there. France, the Netherlands, Germany; he saw almost all the shit that went down over there! I spend two years in some jungle and I can barely function some days because of a few nightmares. It ain't the same thing!"

"You can't compare experiences like that, Coop! It's not a contest! Anyways, if you don't give Jimmy a chance to understand, how will things between you two progress into what you want?" Danny inquired, stretching his arms over his head.

A shadow crossed Coop's face. "I've not considered me and Jimmy having anything a possibility after what he said to me," Coop admitted.

"Well, I can tell you that there is a chance. When I called Jimmy a hothead, I meant it. I think that's the biggest problem you and Jimmy share. Jimmy just runs his mouth off instead. Anyway, I'm hearing lots of prayers for you to pull through, Coop. Jimmy's are the loudest by far. But why don't we have that game of gin to clear the air?" Danny suggested, mopping perspiration off his forehead.

Coop grinned, relieved to be off the subjects of religion and Jimmy. "Alright, works for me. I got the cards in the den somewhere. Follow me."

* * *

Elizabeth had nodded off in Father Mack's arms. Clasping his hands in a never-ending vigil, Father Mack did his best to stay still so he wouldn't wake the sleeping woman laying atop him. Joe, dead to the world with his head against the wall, breathed loudly with his mouth open as he grunted in his sleep. Jimmy, slumped forward in his chair, dozed in fitful spurts. Jimmy startled periodically when Serge banged his chair when he got up to pace the room in frequent intervals.

Serge jumped to attention when the door to the waiting area banged open. A surgeon with a light blue mask hanging off his face and a light blue shirt streaked with blood peered back at him.


	19. Crossing a Line

The door banging against the white wall directed Father Mack away from his silent vigil and drew his tired eyes towards the doorway. Seeing that the doctor had come at last, he slowly began to shake Elizabeth out of her slumber.

"About bloody time you showed up! How's my son doing?" Serge demanded in a gruff voice as he glared at the young surgeon before him dressed in light blue scrubs from head to toe.

Hearing Serge yell, Jimmy came out of his stupor and began rubbing his eyes. He got to his feet and braced himself for bad news. In the few snatches he had been able to drift away from the waiting room, Coop's smiling ghost or blood streaked face had been there to greet him. Beside Jimmy, Joe continued to sleep undisturbed.

Taking a cloth surgical cap off his head, the surgeon directed his gray eyes on Serge. Hours of surgery had taken their toll. The surgeon's eyes struck Jimmy as lifeless as a rain puddle on a hard city sidewalk.

"My name is Dr. Smith. Is everyone awake?" Dr. Smith asked in a calm voice as his eyes fell on Father Mack helping Elizabeth to her feet.

Glancing about the room, Serge glared as Joe began to snore. Turning back to the surgeon, Serge boomed, "Yes, everyone who matters has been waiting hours for what you got to say! So get on with it!"

Dr. Smith looked away from Serge and towards Elizabeth and Father Mack. "I do apologize for the wait, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper. It was a very complicated surgery. We just got Sean stabilized in the past hour or so. Our lead surgeon, Dr. Buchanan, is having him moved to intensive care. Once Sean is settled there, Dr. Buchanan will come up to fill you in further."

"What!? We got to wait longer!? Why the hell can't you tell us anything!?" Serge yelled, waving his fists at the surgeon.

Letting go of Elizabeth, Father Mack made his way towards Serge and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Brogan, you must calm down. This young lad is only trying to help!"

Serge glared at Father Mack, but said nothing.

"I'm only a resident. I'm not authorized yet to give full particulars without the supervision of a leading doctor," Dr. Smith explained, rubbing his eyes. "I'm telling you what Dr. Buchanan authorized me to pass along. Now that I've done so, I'm to go back downstairs and assist with getting Sean set up in intensive care. Excuse me," Dr. Smith muttered as he left the room, banging the door closed behind him.

As the news that Coop had survived surgery began to seep in, Jimmy looked down to his feet. A new sensation began to burn inside him; for the first time since the whole ordeal had started, Jimmy felt hope.

During Serge's tirade at the doctor, Elizabeth had shrunk back in embarrassment and remained quiet. But as the shock of the doctor's abrupt appearance began to wear offoff, Elizabeth moved over to Serge. Pulling Serge by the collar, Elizabeth dragged her husband over to the corner of the room by the door.

"Must you alienate everyone?" Elizabeth demanded of Serge in a furious whisper the entire room could hear. Elizabeth's usually mild blue eyes blazed and Jimmy recognized the familiar glint that Coop's eyes flashed when he refused to back down from a point he was making.

"Pardon me for caring about our son!" Serge hissed back as he pried Elizabeth's fingers off his collar. "While you've been sleeping all night I've been caring and waiting!"

"How dare you, Brogan!" Elizabeth whispered as tears filled her eyes. For a moment, Jimmy wondered if Elizabeth would strike Serge across the face.

Jimmy didn't get a chance to find out. Father Mack moved between Elizabeth and Serge before their argument could escalate. With a grunt, Father Mack pulled husband and wife by their elbows to the chairs on the other side of the room. Taking a seat between them, Father Mack cast sidelong glances at Elizabeth and Serge.

"Elizabeth and Brogan, I know it is tempting, but you both must not give into the temptation to tear each other apart. You must remain focused on the task at hand: praying for Sean's recovery," Father Mack directed.

"You're absolutely right, Father," Elizabeth sniffled as she began brushing tears away. "Thank you so much for coming here with me."

"It's no problem at all, Elizabeth. I've known Sean since the day he was born and I would never let you go alone to a place like this."

"But what about Mass, Father?" asked Elizabeth.

"Once we know where to go, I'll call Father William and have him officiate," Father Mack whispered soothingly, naming a young priest that had recently joined the parish. "God needs me to be here with you and Brogan and to pray for Sean."

Serge redirected his smoldering fury on Father Mack. "It's so easy for you to be calm about this, Father! Your son's life isn't hanging in the balance! You could never begin to understand what I'm going through!"

"Brogan, be quiet!" Elizabeth hissed in a wavering voice.

Serge opened his mouth to yell at his wife, but Father Mack lifted a hand as if he were merely quieting two quarreling children.

"While I may not have borne any children of my own, Brogan, I hope you realize I love Sean as much as if he were my own son. I am despairing here with you," Father Mack said as his green eyes began to glisten.

"We know, Father," Elizabeth confirmed as tears began running down her cheeks. With a sniff, she clasped Father Mack's hand in her own.

Serge grunted and began studying the buttons on his wrinkled shirt.

Jimmy had looked onto the scene with weary interest. Coop's words a few weeks previous began to re-echo through his head. _You were right, Coop; whatever love your folks had died years ago. Father Mack is telling them what they should be telling each other._ Jimmy's quiet reflection was shattered as Joe's loud snores captured his attention.

"For God's sake, would someone wake that bloody fool up!?" Serge yelled.

Elizabeth glared at her husband as Jimmy made his way over to Joe.

"Don't worry, Serge. I'll wake him up," Jimmy promised as he began shaking Joe's shoulder and whispering at him fiercely.

* * *

During the long poker game at Coop's kitchen table, Coop's face had been an undecipherable mask to Danny. But as the game neared its end, Coop shot Danny a smirk.

"Just what are you looking so smug about?" Danny demanded. Danny kept his fan of cards close to his chest. The tension had taken its toll and Danny had removed his suit jacket and draped it on the back of his chair in an effort to cool off.

"Past experience. You've never won a poker game against me," Coop reminded Danny as his smirk grew larger. "Remind me again what you'll give me if I win, Danny? Being as you said money ain't something you got a use for anymore."

"I don't know, Coop. You didn't really specify anything," said Danny, wiping sweat off his brow with his shirt cuff. Resting his cards face down on the table, Danny directed his gaze on Coop. "All I know is if _I_ win you'll be making me a proper gin and tonic."

"Yeah, yeah," Coop muttered, placing his own cards on the table. "I got it. If I win, you gotta use your magic tricks..."

"Talents!" Danny interjected.

"Fine, talents. You gotta use your talents in a way that won't piss me off," said Coop, shooting Danny a patronizing glance.

"And just how will I do that?" Danny asked, recalling the little success his abilities had had with Coop thus far.

Coop shrugged as he picked up his cards and began scrutinizing his hand. "I don't know, Danny. You're a smart guy. Figure it out. You ready to call or fold?" Coop asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Sure, Coop. I got you this time." Danny looked pleased as he spread his cards on the tabletop. "Three of a kind! Beat that!"

A worried look came to Coop's face and he began running his hand through his hair. "You're right, Danny. That's one hell of a hand."

"Well, you'd best get cracking on my drink, then!" Danny ordered as he got to his feet and headed for the living room.

"It's sure a pain I gotta beat your hand, Danny," Coop called in a voice laced with regret.

Danny spun around. "What?"

A smile across his face, Coop's face lit up as he spread out his cards. "A full house, Danny. Read it and weep!"

"Ugh!" Danny groaned as he reclaimed his seat. "You do this every time!"

"I'm a cruel bastard, what can I say?" Getting to his feet, Coop shrugged. "When you think up my prize, come meet me in the den. I feel like watching some TV for a bit," Coop called as he left the kitchen.

Danny began grinding his teeth as he wreaked his brain. This mission wasn't going according to plan. Danny couldn't believe he had fallen for Coop's cunning once again. Four years apart should have sharpened, not dulled, Danny's wits.

Placing a hand on the tabletop, Danny reconsidered the situation. The power Coop was desperate to wield was understandable. The past three years of Coop's life had been a series of events that Coop had been unable to control. To shift the tides back into his favour, it was time for Danny to pull some strings. Something Coop had told him earlier inspired him. _Heck, it be just the thing to break this case wide open!_

Taking a deep breath, Danny headed for the blue phone on the kitchen wall and began spinning the dial.

"Hello, Boss?" Danny inquired when he heard the familiar chimes. "I got a bit of a favour to ask you."

* * *

"Come on Jimmy, shake him harder!" Serge bellowed. Twenty minutes had gone by, but Jimmy's attempts to rouse Joe had met with no success.

"For Pete's sake, Brogan! Let the poor boy be!" Elizabeth muttered, clutching Father Mack's hand as they waited for Dr. Buchanan to come into the room.

"Uh, sorry Serge! Lemme try again," Jimmy mumbled, looking flustered.

"Joe!" Jimmy hissed, shaking Joe so hard the young man's head wobbled back and forth. "Wake up!"

"Huh?" Joe muttered as he stopped snoring and opened glazed eyes.

Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief. "Geez, thought you'd never wake up."

Joe began rubbing his eyes as he started to remember where he was. "Was I asleep?"

"Either that or snoring to get on my nerves!" Serge muttered, climbing out of his chair and pacing the room.

Joe turned red as he looked down at the floor. "Sorry, sir," Joe apologized. "It's a family curse. My dad grew up in England and he even managed to sleep through the Blitz!"

"No one cares about your bloody life story!" Serge growled.

"Brogan, stop it!" Elizabeth called from her chair across the room.

"Shut up!"

"Brogan, over here!" Father Mack bellowed, directing his hand at the empty seat beside him.

Jimmy and Serge jumped at hearing the benign Father Mack erupt. But it had its intended effect. Looking abashed, Serge sank back into his chair.

Trembling, Jimmy got back into his own seat and shot a reassuring glance at Joe.

Ashamed at the argument he had caused, Joe ducked his head in response. "Told you I wasn't welcome here!" Joe mumbled.

"And I told you not to take it personal!" Jimmy hissed back. "Serge is under a ton of stress right now. Just let it go!"

The room sank into quiet tension and the group wasn't sure whether to be relieved or anxious when the knock at the door came.

"Come in!" called Serge, his voice deflated.

A tall, middle-aged doctor dressed in a white coat and striped brown tie came into the room. A beige stethoscope was looped around his neck. Though he had changed out of his surgical garb, the doctor still look exhausted. His brown eyes were almost hidden by the large, black circles that surrounded them. Anxiously, the doctor began tugging at his blond mustache.

"Are you Dr. Buchanan?" Elizabeth asked, pulling herself and Father Mack to their feet.

"I am," Dr. Buchanan confirmed. "I'm so sorry you've been waiting for so long, but it was a difficult surgery. You probably should sit down before I tell you the situation."

Elizabeth, supported by Father Mack, sank slowly back into her seat. Jimmy, Serge, and Joe directed their eyes at the doctor and waited.

Dr. Buchanan examined the motley crew in front of him and took a second to gather himself before he began. Even after twenty-years of delivering news to waiting families, Dr. Buchanan had never found the task to grow any easier.

"Before I begin, may I inquire as to who everyone is?" Dr. Buchanan asked, pulling a spare seat towards the middle of the room and sitting down.

Father Mack spoke first. "This woman beside me is Elizabeth Cooper, Sean's mother. The gentleman to my right is Brogan Cooper, Sean's father. The man closet to you is James Bruno, Sean's close friend. I'm Father Simon Mackintosh, the priest of Sean's parish. The other gentleman is…I'm sorry son, I've forgotten your name."

"Joseph Malone," Joe mumbled, more to himself than to Father Mack.

"Right, Joseph Malone, the rookie I believe James was training tonight?"

"Yes, Father," Jimmy confirmed.

"Alright." Dr. Buchanan sighed, leaning back into his chair. "Well, we have finally gotten Sean stabilized and he's in the Intensive Care Unit."

"So, how is he?" asked Serge, widening his watery eyes.

Dr. Buchanan's voice became toneless, as if he were reciting from a medical journal. "He was shot twice. Once below the right shoulder and once in the left side of his chest, directly below his heart."

Jimmy and Joe winced as the previous evening's images flooded into their minds.

"The force from the right shot broke Sean's clavicle." Seeing blank faces staring back, Dr. Buchanan realized he had to spare the medical jargon. "That's his collarbone. It's a simple break; it will mend if we just keep it in a sling."

Jimmy stared at the floor as he recalled violently shaking and squeezing Coop's right shoulder. He shuddered to think of the extra pain he had inflicted.

Dr. Buchanan continued, "The shot went through his chest and exited out his back. It missed his spine, but hit and damaged his right lung. We've repaired it. He also has some abrasions to his face. The worst one required some stitches."

The faces in front of him appearing relieved, Dr. Buchanan began the rest of his speech with trepidation. "The shot to the left side of Sean's chest was by far the most severe. It missed his heart, but hit him in the spleen and caused massive blood loss. We had no choice but to remove the spleen. We've given him twenty-four pints of blood and he's receiving another unit now. I'm hoping it's the last one he will require."

"What's a spleen?" asked Elizabeth, speaking for the first time and not ashamed of her ignorance. "Is it something Sean can live without?"

"The spleen is an organ in the upper left abdomen. The bullet took a downward path and hit Sean there. Yes, it is thankfully an organ people can live normal lives without," Dr. Buchanan confirmed.

"So, what you're trying to say is that Coop is going to be okay, right?" Serge asked, clasping his hands together.

Dr. Buchanan hesitated for a moment. "Sean lost a lot of blood. We have him stabilized for now. But he's in very critical condition. Besides the blood we're giving him, we've got chest tubes going to drain fluid and to make sure his lung doesn't collapse again. Infection is also a huge risk, so we got antibiotics going, as well. We're also keeping him sedated to let everything settle down. We'll have Sean on a respirator for at least the next day or so."

"What's a respirator?" Jimmy wondered aloud.

"A respirator is a machine that helps someone to breath," explained Dr. Buchanan. "I'm going to head back to the Intensive Care Unit to make sure everything is going alright. Once I do that, I'll send a nurse up to take you all there so you can see Sean."

"But, Sean will be alright, won't he?" Elizabeth asked in a pleading voice as tears formed in her eyes.

"Well..." Dr. Buchanan began. "It is hard for me to speculate…"

"Quit your blabbering!" Serge yelled, slamming a fist into the armrest of his chair. "You obviously have an opinion of how our son's going to do! So tell us!"

Looking at the group trembling from Serge's outburst, Dr. Buchanan let out a loud sigh. In a swift second, the doctor focused on Serge more than anyone else.

"Alright, I'm going to level with you. Sean's in really bad shape. We almost lost him four times on the table. We really don't have a medical explanation as to how he even arrived at the hospital alive. With all that blood he lost, he went without adequate oxygen for a long period of time. There's a high likelihood of brain damage. If Sean does survive his injuries, the chances of him waking up and making a full recovery are slim."

Elizabeth dissolved into tears and a stricken Father Mack gripped her hand in shock as he leaned back into his chair. Joe stared at the floor and Jimmy could feel himself go numb.

Serge leaped to his feet. "That son of a bitch! I'm going to kill him!" Serge roared. His face turning red as he continued to rant and rave, Serge flung open the door and fled into the hallway.

"Serge!" Jimmy called, ignoring the pain from his knees as he jumped up. "Come back!"

Jimmy ran into the hall, looking both ways for Serge. But Serge was nowhere to be seen.

Coming back into the waiting room with a pale face, Jimmy shook his head at the stunned looking group. "I'm sorry. I can't see which way he went."

"It's okay, James," Father Mack murmured, his glassy eyes fixated on a blood drive poster above his seat. "Brogan's rage is understandable and we must pray he does nothing foolish. We must continue to pray for Sean. You and the doctors have done all you can. What happens now is in God's hands."

Jimmy returned to his seat, barely hearing a word Father Mack said.

Awed by Father Mack's devout faith, Dr. Buchanan got up and replaced the chair near the door. "I promise a nurse will be along to escort you to the Intensive Care Unit shortly. I'll have hospital security keep a lookout for Mr. Cooper. I'm sorry I didn't have better news for you all." Dr. Buchanan sighed as he left the room. _When will this ever get easier?_

Elizabeth continued to weep bitterly and Father Mack tried in vain to soothe her. Joe rocked nervously back and forth in his chair, trying to calm his shaking hands.

Beside Joe, Jimmy leaned back in his seat, his face white. Despite all his prayers and his efforts, Coop was still going to die. Or worse, live a life confined to a hospital bed, oblivious to the world around him. That was a fate worse than death.

Jimmy felt every inch of his body go cold. _Good God, why didn't I just go out there with Coop instead of being such a fucking coward?!_

* * *

After flicking through the endless series of channels his TV set now contained, Coop had settled on a rerun of _Leave It to Beaver_. The show had never been a favourite; Coop had only watched the show when he was sixteen and seventeen during the times he had "volunteered" to watch his small cousin, Mary Alice.

The show contained no happy memories for Coop. The loving marriage of June and Ward Cleaver represented nothing close to the real life marriages Coop had become accustomed to. And Ward, firm and strict, but loving, was so divergent from Serge Coop almost wanted to laugh.

But the show represented more than that. As the actor who played Wally had grown into a handsome, athletic young man, Coop had developed a crush on him. It had been a pivotal moment when Coop had realized the attraction he had begun feeling towards men a few years previous was not something that would disappear at the end of puberty. While his friends had become infatuated with the girls in the Playboys hidden under their mattresses, Coop had lusted for the teen idols in his young cousin's magazines.

Remembering more of the past, Coop's elation over beating Danny at poker faded. Coop began to tune out the canned laughter from the TV. _God, do some people just like to make themselves miserable?_

Danny drifted into the living room from the kitchen. It was a struggle, but Danny managed to cover with his jacket the squirming bundle he clenched to his chest with one arm. In his free hand was an ice cold bottle of Coke.

"Coop!" Danny called. "Come out here! Got your prize from the poker game!"

Welcoming the distraction from his swirling thoughts, Coop got up from his desk chair. With a smirk, Coop switched off the TV before heading into the living room.

Glancing at Danny smugly, Coop grinned as he asked, "So, what is it? What have you conjured up for me?"

Danny shrugged as he headed over to Coop. "A Coke."

"A Coke?" Coop squeaked as he took the bottle from Danny's hand.

"Yeah. I remembered you liked Coke. So, I whipped one up since I know this won't piss you off!"

"Thanks," Coop muttered. He shook his head; Danny had his charming, little boy ways of being a smart aleck.

Spotting something moving beneath Danny's jacket, Coop asked, "What the hell've you got under there!?"

Danny shrugged his shoulders and stuck out his bottom lip. "Oh, nothing much, just thought you could use a friend over here."

Coop cocked an eyebrow. "A friend?"

"Here you go," said Danny, leaning over so his jacket fell off. Danny smiled as he handed Coop a furry bundle.

"Robin," Coop whispered as he brought Robin up to his face. Burying his nose in Robin's rough fur and breathing in his yeasty smell, Coop headed for his armchair without a word.

"Thought you'd like some more company," Danny grinned, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of Coop's chair.

Settling Robin on his lap, Coop gave Danny a broad smile. "Thanks, Danny. How'd you do it?"

"Gave the Boss a ring and he pulled some strings. Robin's up here for as long as it takes for you to decide things, Coop."

Feeling the rumbling from Robin's purrs, Coop's eyes shone as he petted Robin until the cat curled up in his lap to fall asleep.

Turning his attention to Danny, Coop asked, "So, why'd you do it?"

Danny shrugged and looked down. "Thought it'd make things easier for you if someone familiar was here. Also helps to prove a point I made earlier."

"Hmm, what's that Danny?" Coop murmured as he stroked the top of Robin's head.

Danny got to his feet and his gaze became confident as he looked down at Coop. "The point that you're not dead yet. Do you think you could have shown love and compassion towards a helpless creature if you had no feelings whatsoever? Like you keep trying to convince yourself?"

Coop sighed as he continued to stare at Robin. "I couldn't just let him starve to death or have dumped him at the pound where they would have gassed him! I...I couldn't have lived with myself. So, to answer you...I guess not."

Danny smiled as he continued to pace around the room. "So, that being out of the way, let's move onto this business with Eileen."

Coop pursed his lips and glared. "There ain't nothing to talk about."

"Sure there is! You keep bringing her up!"

"She's just Jimmy's wife," Coop mumbled, petting Robin.

"But she's tied into this whole "You're Ruining Jimmy's Life" thing," Danny persisted, seating himself on the armrest of Coop's chair.

"Yeah, like I said, she's Jimmy's wife. And she knows about us. Wrecking Jimmy's marriage means I'm destroying his life. If I just die, maybe they can put what we did behind them and pretend I never tainted their lives," Coop whispered, blinking furiously.

Sighing, Danny put a hand on Coop's shoulder. "It's not that simple, Coop. And you know it. How'd Eileen find out about you two, anyway?"

Coop let out a snort before asking, "I thought you knew everything about me?"

"Refresh my memory. I can't understand every thought process you have," reminded Danny, trying to keep his balance on the armrest.

Drawing Robin up to his chest, Coop sighed. The first night he had kissed Jimmy had been the second best night of his life. But as much as Coop tried, he could never forget Eileen's part in it.

Coop bit his lip as he gathered his thoughts to explain what had happened. "Eileen was thirsty and came downstairs for some orange juice. She heard me and Jimmy arguing and decided to watch us. She saw us kiss and took off after that. She didn't see or hear anything else we did," Coop muttered in a monotone.

"How'd she come about telling you?" Danny asked, squeezing Coop's shoulder in empathy.

"After the baptism of Jimmy's kid. I knew she was mad at me, but I never thought it was beyond me being late."

* * *

_July 7, 1968 had begun with Robin scratching loudly on the cellar door, begging for breakfast._

_Robin's racket drew Coop from his deep sleep. Scratching his chest as he sat up, Coop grinned as he realized the night previous hadn't been marred by nightmares. He felt rested for the first time in days._

_Glancing at his watch, Coop's eyes widened in panic as he read the time: 8:43 am! He had seventeen minutes to shower, dress, and get to St. Anthony's Church! Jimmy's son Tommy was being baptized today and, for reasons Coop still didn't understand, Jimmy had begged him to be one of Tommy's godfathers._

_Cursing that he still hadn't replaced his alarm clock, Coop tore up the wooden stairs. His bare foot catching on the last step, Coop fell forward and smacked his head on the door._

_Panicked, the Robin darted fled through the doggie door and into the stagnant summer heat._

_"Shit," Coop yelled, rubbing his head as he flung open the door. Coop ran for the bathroom as fast as his body would let shaving for the work the previous day now saved him a few minutes, Coop jumped into the shower. Coop yelped as stinging needles of water hit his flushed skin.  
_

* * *

_The crowd waiting for Tommy Bruno's christening to start was a mix of smartly dressed men and women and police officers, dressed in their work uniforms. The head priest of St. Anthony's parish, Father Mack began lighting candles at the front altar. A few feet away, Jimmy, Eileen, Serge, Jimmy's parents, and Jimmy's son and daughter awaited Coop's arrival. Serge groaned as he tugged at his Inspector's uniform. Jimmy felt hot and grimy in his dark gray suit. Eileen, dressed in a smart pink dress and her hair elaborately curled, held a struggling, white gowned Tommy to her bosom._

_Eileen's veneer of patience began to crack. "Maybe we should start without him," Eileen said, trying to hide her irritation as Coop's lateness began to go on twenty minutes._

_Keeping his hands crossed over his waist, Jimmy glanced over at Eileen. He didn't see what the fuss was about; Tommy would get baptized no matter what time Coop arrived. "Five more minutes," Jimmy muttered._

_As Serge glanced back towards the church's entrance, Eileen shook her head. She was annoyed her even-tempered husband refused to show any disapproval towards Coop's behaviour. "Does Coop even remember what a church looks like?"_

_"He'll be here. Relax," Jimmy reassured Eileen._

_Eileen began to nestle and kiss Tommy, refusing to look at Jimmy._

_Bored with waiting, Adam and Patty broke out laughing as they began poking each other._

_"Hey you two! Knock it off!" Jimmy ordered quietly, stealing a glance as his two older children._

_Looking guiltily at his father, Adam crossed his hands. He began rocking on his feet as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark blue suit. Patty began to absentmindedly chew her fingernails and fiddle with her dark braids._

_"Talk to your son this morning, Serge?" Jimmy asked, glancing around the altar._

_"Called him an hour ago. No answer," Serge admitted._

_"Perfect," muttered Eileen, not taking care to hide the venom in her voice._

_Jimmy began to look over at his wife in puzzlement, but the crowd at the altar was distracted by the church doors banging open._

_Coop emerged in the doorway, his pinstriped, untucked shirt flapping around him as he tightened his tie. Walking up the aisle, Coop shot a sheepish grin to the snickering crowd in the pews._

_Serge and Jimmy looked toward Coop with broad grins. Eileen's green eyes shot daggers._

_"So, what you think, Jimmy?" Serge asked. He dugJimmy in the ribs with his elbow as Coop made his way to the altar, tucking in his shirt. "Brawl or babe?"_

_Pondering the question for a moment, Jimmy replied, "Brawl, then a babe."_

_Eileen rolled her eyes._

_"Ain't it about time he got married?" said Serge._

_Jimmy grinned ruefully as Coop neared them. "You got to go out a second date for that, Serge."_

_Serge began laughing._

_"Okay, what are you going to believe?" Coop asked, approaching the altar and throwing his arms around Jimmy and Serge. "That my alarm broke or that I got lost?"_

_"Since you were an altar boy here, Sean, I'll go with the former," said Father Mack, shaking his reading glasses at Coop sternly._

_"There it is! Qhat Father Mack says," said Coop, gesturing towards Father Mack._

_Turning to Eileen, Coop complimented, "Looking beautiful, Eileen," and gave her a quick peck on her cheek. "Sorry, really," said Coop, widening his blue eyes._

_"Forget it, Coop," Eileen muttered, shooting him a dirty look._

_Jimmy gave Eileen a puzzled glance, but Eileen quickly turned away and refocused her attention on Tommy._

_"Been wondering where my deputy's been hiding, huh?" said Coop, giving Adam a light punch on the shoulder. "Sweetheart," said Coop, brushing Patty's cheek._

_Taking his place beside Jimmy, Coop asked, "So, what are we waiting for, partner?"_

_Directing the group to surround him, Father Mack began reciting an incantation Coop had heard dozens of times: "You've asked to have your child baptized. In doing so, you are accepting the responsibility of training him in the practice of the faith…"_

_Bored already of hearing Father Mack drone on, Jimmy looked at Tommy and whispered to Coop, "Think he'll be another cop?"_

_"No choice. It's in his genes, forever blue," Coop replied._

_Jimmy sighed and shook his head slightly. "Someone's gotta break out. Live a better kind of life."_

_"Yeah, what else can guys like us do for a living, huh?" Coop muttered back._

_Jealous that Coop knew he had other options, Jimmy blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Sales?"_

_Remembering his first job out of college, Coop began snickering. "Sales? Yeah…"_

_Jimmy began laughing with Coop, until both were shushed by Eileen. Both shot her guilty glances of apology._

_The group crossed themselves as Father Mack began waving a hand over the Bible, chanting, "In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, amen."_

_"Amen," said Eileen, shooting Coop another dirty look._

_Coop had looked down. That day, as soon as the reception at Jimmy's was over, Coop had promised himself that he would drive around until he found an open place and buy a new alarm clock._

* * *

"So, Eileen was pretty cold to you at the baptism, huh?" Danny asked, rubbing Robin's chin.

"One way to put it!" Coop muttered, cracking open the Coke and taking a quick sip.

"So, what happened next?"

Coop rested a hand on the top of Robin's head.

"Oh, the whole thing finished and Pop gave me his little speech that I wasn't his son anymore. After that, I went to my car and debated going home. But I never could've explained to Jimmy why I wasn't at his house after. So, stupid me, I went to the reception after I pulled myself together."

* * *

_Coop had felt like an alien as he had sat alone in a corner of Jimmy's living room, nursing a glass of punch. The cheerful crowd had kept crowding around Jimmy and Eileen to congratulate them. As a consequence, Jimmy barely had had time to speak with Coop._

_Glancing around the room and spotting Coop, Eileen passed Tommy to Jimmy's mother and excused herself. Pushing herself though the crowd gathered around a table for finger sandwiches, Eileen made her way over to Coop._

_A sudden shadow dragging him away from his misery, Coop looked up at Eileen in surprise. "Yeah, Eileen?"_

_"Can I talk to you alone for a moment, Coop?" Eileen asked crisply, teetering on her high heels._

_"Sure," Coop mumbled as he got up, looking at Eileen in confusion._

_As the two made their way to the kitchen, Coop began to think Eileen was upset that he was late to the baptism. He resolved to find a way to make it up to her. He was sure he was the guy who could fix that leaky faucet upstairs when Jimmy's handyman skills in that area sorely lacked._

_"Eileen," Coop began, leaning against the far counter as Eileen closed the white draped doors of the kitchen. "I'm sorry for being late. My alarm clock broke. Honest. I'll do whatever I can to make it up to you."_

_"You idiot! You think this is about you being late?" asked Eileen coldly, shaking her head as she approached Coop._

_"I got no idea what you're talking about," replied a confused Coop._

_"You think I don't know about you, Coop?" Eileen whispered._

_"Know about what?"_

_"You must think I'm stupid! I'm not blind! I saw what you did to Jimmy in the backyard. I come down to have some orange juice and hear some arguing. I look out the window, thinking I'm going to get a bit of amusement. Instead, you went ahead and kissed my husband! I don't know what you two did after that! I took off! I don't even want to know!" said Eileen, beginning to cry.  
_

_Coop took Eileen's wrist in his own as he tried to think of an explanation._

* * *

_Finishing the last drops of his punch, Tom McCree went over to the refreshment table for a refill. He scowled when he was greeted by an empty punchbowl and decided to see if there was another batch sitting in the kitchen. Darting through the crowd, McCree pushed open the kitchen doors and was stunned to see Eileen crying in front of Coop._

_"I know it's wrong," Coop said at last, unaware McCree was in the room with them._

_"How could you do this to me, Coop!? To us!?" Eileen cried, tears and mascara running down her cheeks._

_Coop's own heart threatened to rip apart. "What do you want from me?"_

_Suddenly, Eileen and Coop noticed McCree. Breaking into a fresh torrent of sobs, Eileen fled from the kitchen. Coop looked after her helplessly._

_"Lookee what we got here," said McCree, placing his empty punch glass on the counter._

_Turning to face McCree, Coop jammed his hands into his pockets. "Give it a rest!"  
_

_McCree glared at Coop. "How long has it been going on?"  
_

_Confused, Coop looked away from McCree_.How long has what been going on?!

_"Does Jimmy know?" McCree persisted._

He thinks I'm fucking Eileen?! _But relieve McCree thought his argument with Eileen was over something else, Coop admitted, "No."_

_"What would your old man say? His own son, banging another cop's wife?" McCree shook his head at Coop in disgust._

_"You leave Serge out of this!"_

_McCree shook his head slowly. "Oh, you don't tell me what to do. Not ever again."_

_Coop tried to back away as McCree began to move himself closer._

_"I don't give a rat's ass about you! But Jimmy's a good man. He doesn't deserve this! You end it! Understand?" McCree asked, his green eyes turning to ice._

_"I understand," Coop muttered, his heart beginning to hammer._

_"This is a cop's wife! You crossed a line."_

_"I know that," whispered Coop._

_"You'd better," McCree said with a snort, leaving the young womanizer alone in the kitchen._

_Leaning against the counter so he wouldn't collapse to the floor, Coop had begun to realize the magnitude of the can of worms he had unleashed.  
_

* * *

As Coop finished remembering that horrible day, he felt a strong urge to hit something. "The son of a bitch McCree was right. I did cross a line!" Coop muttered, slamming a fist into the table beside him and startling Robin. "I was so focused on what I wanted I didn't even consider Eileen. Or Jimmy's kids."

"Coop, it wasn't just you," Danny reminded Coop, placing a hand on Coop's shoulder. "Jimmy is involved in this just as much as you are. He made a choice, too."

"Come on, Danny! Jimmy never woulda made this choice if it weren't for me," Coop whispered, wrapping his arms around Robin. Robin began to lick Coop's face until Coop brushed him away.

"You don't know that! Maybe you were the catalyst now, but what if Jimmy had met you a few years down the road, deciding you were perfect for him? If he had decided to pursue his desires on his own, would you be ruining his life then?"

"No, but that has nothing to do with this!" Coop protested.

"Sure it does! Jimmy told you that he's known he's like us since he was sixteen. That he got married in the hopes how he felt towards men would disappear. Tell me, are Jimmy and Eileen happy together?"

"Well, no," Coop admitted, placing Robin back on his lap. "They've not been happy in years. They make each other miserable most of the time."

"And you like both Eileen and Jimmy as people. Am I right?" asked Danny, pacing around the coffee table.

"Well, yeah," Coop admitted. Coop rubbed his temples; he couldn't fanthom where Danny's tangent was leading.

"So, don't you think it's smart they both realize that their marriage is a farce and just let each other be happy?"

"Ha! Not that easy, Danny. Besides, I don't think you understand the whole situation I'm caught up in. Deborah never found out about you," Coop pointed out.

"Nah, she did, actually," said Danny quietly, sitting down on the coffee table.

"Huh? How the hell did that happen?"

Coop's voice woke up Robin and the cat perked his head up in curiosity.

"Oh, much the same way you did, Coop. Walked in on me and Hank kissing."

"Damn," Coop muttered, beginning to rock his chair and digest what Danny was revealing. "How'd she take it?"

Danny paused a moment before answering. "All things considered, rather well."

* * *

_As the late September sun on September 20, 1964 began to fade, Hank Philips had run in a panic from Danny's dorm room._

_Looking out Danny's window Deborah, a slim, attractive girl with dark brown hair and eyes began to mutter, "Damn you! Damn you!"_

_Feeling shaky, Deborah took a seat on Danny's hard, narrow bed. She directed her eyes on Danny as she whispered, "Everything's a big lie?"_

_Danny began shaking his head._

_"You're just a liar using me?" Deborah asked as tears ran down her cheeks._

_"No," Danny said softly, taking a seat in front of Deborah. "I love you. Nothing has to change."_

_Gaping at Danny in confusion, Deborah stifled her cries. "What do you mean?"_

_"I mean I do love you. Uh...I-I love you," Danny stammered._

_"But not the way you're supposed to," Deborah whispered back._

_Danny averted his gaze, studying the plaid pattern on his bedspread._

_Sniffing back her tears, Deborah looked at the top of Danny's head. "Tell me," she whispered._

_Sighing, Danny got up off the bed and put his hands in his pockets. Looking at the floor, Danny finally admitted, "Not as much."_

_"As much as what?"_

_Danny looked at Deborah, hating the answer he had to give her. "As much as I love him."_

_Deborah had looked down as the tears returned in a torrent._

* * *

"Deborah was one heck of a person. She stayed friends with me after all that," said Danny. He winced at the painful memory.

Coop looked down at Robin, trying to come to terms with what Danny had just told him. "Why didn't you tell _me_?"

Danny sighed and gave the carpet a small kick. "Didn't get the chance. That was just a couple days after I quit the baseball team and you were away at a bunch of away games."

"Well, I'm sorry that happened to ya, Danny. But your story doesn't really change the whole thing with Eileen," Coop muttered.

"The point is, Coop, when we feel love calling, we have to decide whether we want to be happy or not. You, me, Jimmy, Eileen. We're all the same."

Coop snorted, rubbing Robin's ear. "Not Eileen! She'd _never_ go against the Church telling her divorce is wrong. The woman is the closest thing you'll find to a saint on Earth!"

"Oh, Eileen's not so perfect," Danny muttered, straightening his tie.

"You've obviously never met the woman, have you?" Coop mumbled.

"No, but she's no different than a lot of religious people I've met. Sinning during the week with her neighbour, begging forgiveness on Sundays. Just because she does her fling with a man doesn't make her any holier than Jimmy or you. She's doing the exact same thing you and Jimmy are," said Danny, looking up at the ceiling.

"What the hell are you talking about, Danny?" Coop asked in confusion, his eyebrows raising.

"Uh, nothing." Danny began blushing as he realized he had let something he wasn't supposed to slip.

"Don't give me that! You just said…"

Coop was cut off as the phone in the kitchen began ringing. Danny paled and jumped about a mile.

"Am I losing it or is my phone ringing, Danny?" Coop asked, getting to his feet and lifting Robin up.

"Uh, it is, but it's not for you. It's for me," Danny stammered as he ran into the kitchen.

"What the hell?" Coop muttered, placing Robin on the ottoman as he followed Danny.

* * *

Pulling into the staff parking lot of the 5th District Police Station, Serge parked his beige 1963 Buick Riviera. Putting the car in park and removing his key, Serge reached into his glove compartment for the gun he had stowed in there before running into Penn General so many hours before. Serge winced as he emerged from his car and saw Coop's T-Bird glinting in the sun, like a forlorn horse awaiting its rider.

As the early morning sun gleamed off his whitening blond hair, Serge clenched his pistol as he made his way towards the station. He had a score to settle with Tom McCree if he hoped to avenge his son's memory.


	20. Personal Glimpses

The blue phone almost slipped from Danny's sweaty palm as he picked up the receiver. Managing just to hold onto it, Danny managed to squeak out, "Hello?"

Coop reached the kitchen's doorway just in time to hear a roaring voice boom from the telephone and to see Danny pale even more.

Curious to see what the fuss was about, Robin sat behind Coop's feet.

"Yes, Boss, I know I shouldn't have said anything about Eileen," Danny stammered, sweat forming on his brow. "It just came out,"

Coop strained to hear the reply, but the shouting voice coming through was as an unintelligible as a supermarket intercom announcement.

"Yes, I promise I won't do it again. Yes, you got my word!" Danny yelled, a hint of colour flooding back into his cheeks. "Yes, I will explain why I can't say any more about it! Thanks, good-bye!" Letting out a loud sigh of relief, Danny slammed the receiver back onto its hook. Turning around, Danny kept his eyes directed to the floor.

"What the hell was that about?" Coop demanded as he walked up to Danny with his arms crossed.

"Uh, I'm in a bit of trouble for telling you that thing about Eileen," explained Danny, waving his hands in front of his face in an attempt to cool off. "There's stuff I know you're not supposed to know."

"Why not?"

"Uh, walk with me into the living room," said Danny, trying to buy time. Scampering ahead, Danny tried to think of an explanation Coop would accept.

"I sure as hell don't believe what you said anyway," Coop mumbled. Twisting his T-shirt, Coop threw himself onto his armchair, Robin jumping up on the armrest after him.

Danny didn't sit down, but continued to pace around the coffee table in an endless circle.

"Danny, quit that. You'll wear a hole in the floor!" Coop ordered, slamming his open palm onto his lap and causing Robin to flinch. "I don't know what you've been smoking or drinking up there, but Eileen sure as hell ain't the type of person to have an affair!"

Stopping his pacing, Danny replied crisply, "Do you think I would make something like that up?"

"I dunno," Coop admitted, starring eye to eye with his cat. "You're so bent on making me not feel bad about things with Jimmy I wouldn't put it past you."

"If I had made it up, I would have gotten in way worse trouble for lying to you," Danny replied, looking annoyed. "I'm just trying to explain this in terms you'll understand."

Coop rolled his eyes and glared at Danny as he yelled, "I ain't stupid, you know!"

"I know that, just some of these legal terms can be a mouthful," Danny muttered, allowing his pacing to resume and include the entire living room. A thought struck him and he stopped by the entrance that opened up into the front hall. "Uh, what's that thing in literature when the reader knows something that the characters don't?"

"You mean dramatic irony?" asked Coop, widening his eyes as he pulled Robin back onto him.

"Yeah, that's it!" Danny exclaimed, snapping his fingers. The sudden noise caused Robin to jump off Coop and onto the floor.

"Oh, sorry about that," said Danny, shooting Coop a sheepish grin.

"Not your fault," Coop replied, trying to coax the cat back onto the chair. "Robin's always been afraid of loud noises and my temper's only made him worse the past few weeks. Anyway, what were you going on about?"

"Okay," said Danny, walking closer to Coop and perching himself on the furthest armrest of the sofa. "Well, to help people out, I sort of get to view a lot of different things before coming down that help me understand the background of the situation. Me knowing this stuff helps moves things along. But, if I tell you too much, you might go back down to Earth knowing stuff that has the possibility to mess things up big time."

Convincing Robin at last things were safe, Coop began petting him as the cat settled himself onto his lap.

"You think I'd spout off all your secrets to people, Danny? For Christ's sake, if I did that I'd get locked up in a crazy house!" Coop muttered. Coop was tempted to scream at Danny, but he didn't want to disturb Robin again.

"Not saying you in particular, Coop," Danny replied, scratching his head. "It's just a risk the Boss doesn't want to take."

"Fine, whatever," Coop murmured, not fully convinced as he brushed a lock of hair back into place. "Mind me asking you something?"

"What I'm here for," Danny reminded Coop, settling himself into a proper seat on the sofa.

"You've told me why you're here and all that jazz," said Coop, giving Robin a small smile. "Although some small part of me still thinks this is just another bad dream or I've completely lost it. But what the hell, I'll ask ya. Why did I get the chance to decide something like this and not you? What makes me so special?"

"Extenuating circumstances," Danny replied, shrugging.

"Um…in English please, Danny?" asked Coop, giving Danny a blank look.

"Sorry, that's legalese. Basically legalese is an expression for a lawyer term most people wouldn't understand. Anyways, extenuating circumstances in this cases means there's a number of reasons you didn't die right away."

"And what the hell would those be? I mean, it seems pretty clear cut to me. A bullet either kills you or it doesn't," said Coop, tightening a hand around Robins arched back.

"People needing you to hang around, what you'd gone through the past while. Big one though was you bolting from the gates," explained Danny, looking at Coop in awe. "People are often afraid and try to run, but most don't make it. But didn't surprise me when I found out you'd done it. You're one stubborn son of a gun. After that, the Boss figured you deserved a chance to go through your options."

Coop began shaking his head in disbelief as Robin stirred in his sleep.

"Why wouldn't you have gotten a second look then, huh? You deserved it a hell of a lot more than I do!"

"Coop, don't start that," ordered Danny, a large frown twisting his face. "What we've experienced in our lives isn't a contest. When I got up there, I realized it was my time to go, that's all. Open and shut."

"People could have used you down here, you know," Coop protested, petting Robin absently. "I know Hank missed you like hell and he was a zombie the last time I saw him at Penn. I think he still misses you. He almost fainted when he saw me a few months ago."

"You've seen Hank?" asked Danny in a startled voice, his eyes widening.

"Yeah, he works for the District Attorney's office," Coop explained. "He was helping prosecute a scumbag Jimmy and I nabbed for selling smack. Jimmy usually handles the court testimonials; McCree thinks he gets on better with important people and has more experience. Anyway, Jimmy had tonsillitis from his kids and was in no shape to go, so yours truly went. I thought Hank was going to shit a brick when he saw me appear in my dress uniform. But we didn't mention Penn or knowing each other and just got on with business. I thought you'd know all that?"

"Well, I knew he was looking for a job this year, but I've not had time to check up on him in a while," Danny muttered, feeling his cheeks turn hot. "When I get the time, I try to find how people I cared about are doing."

"Guess I provided you with some entertainment then?" Coop whistled, not sure whether to laugh or feel down about his sexual exploits with women.

Danny darkened further when he realized what Coop was implying.

"Nah, I don't pop in for that sort of thing. I usually just look in from upstairs to make sure people are okay. I don't come down to visit Philly much. When I'm here, I sometimes forget I'm dead, but it's always a slap in the face when someone walks through me and reminds me I'm invisible."

"That can't be easy," Coop remarked, infuriated at whatever bastard had killed Danny. "What actually happened to you, Danny? Uh, sorry, that's probably a personal question."

Danny shook his head and offered Coop a sad smile.

"Not really. I've had four years to be angry about it. After a while, you sort of get philosophical about it. Me and Hank had a bit of an argument. You know I hated confrontations if I could help it, so I got out of there pretty quick after I called him a coward. I went to hit some balls in this park in Queens Village and went to the Hush Room for a drink to cool off after. As I was leaving, some morons began hassling me. There were these three idiots who always hung around there, giving us fags a hard time."

"I thought it was called being gay," Coop muttered under his breath, taking Robin into his arms as he tried to process what Danny was telling him.

"Yeah, well, old habits die hard. No pun intended, by the way. Anyway, I'd usually ignore or run away from those guys, but something snapped that night as they yelled, "Run fag boy!" I grabbed my baseball bat out of my bag and began hitting them with it. I couldn't stand the insults anymore. But three burly guys against a guy like me was no contest. They grabbed the bat and my last vision on Earth was that bat going straight for my head. Next thing I know, I'm upstairs," finished Danny, calmly stretching his arms.

"I swear, if I find out who those guys are, I will kill them!" Coop bellowed.

Leaping out of Coop's grasp in a panic, Robin rushed for safety under the coffee table.

Robin no longer restraining him, Coop stood up, grabbed a cushion and began strangling it with his hands.

"Coop, calm down!" commanded Danny, moving over to wrestle the cushion away from Coop. Winning the tug of war, Danny placed the cushion back on the sofa. "We're not here to discuss vengeance! I will get justice one day, I'm sure of it. Not in the way you're thinking, though!"

"God, I could use a bottle of whiskey," Coop muttered, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

"I already told you that won't do what you want it to do," reminded Danny, straightening his clothes and hair.

"Oh, I didn't forgot. Just saying it pisses me off. Alcohol is a legal way to forget things. Some of the guys down at the VA smoke pot to chill out, but I won't do something illegal," said Coop, giving the cushion a solid punch before cramming his hands into his pockets.

"I wouldn't know. I've never been drunk in my life," admitted Danny, sinking into the sofa.

"That's a crock of shit, Danny. Remember your twenty-first birthday?" Coop began laughing as he recalled Danny dragging himself into baseball practice the following morning looking half dead and moaning each time a batter hit a ball.

"Only because you and Hank wouldn't stop buying me beers!" Danny protested, waving a fist at Coop.

"Whoa, easy tiger!" Coop shot Danny a smirk, pleased to remember the golden boy hadn't always been perfect.

"Well, whatever, my birthday was one time! You'll never get past the crap that happened to you in Vietnam if you never bother to process it!"

"I will not talk about that! What happened over there is over. I'm fine!" muttered Coop, his face going blank.

"To use your eloquent phrasing, we both know that's a crock of shit, Coop! You've already told me you barely function some days because you can't stop dreaming about it!" Danny persisted as he got up from the sofa. "And if it didn't bug you, why would tell Jimmy how horrible sleeping is for you and write about it all the time?"

"Jimmy only knows about it because he found out by mistake!" Coop yelled back, wincing as he saw the cat take off down the hall.

Danny bit his lip. "Mistake or not, I bet you wanted someone to find out!"

"Why the hell would I want someone to know about it? Why expose someone else to that ugliness?" Coop muttered, balling his right hand into a fist.

"One simple reason: so you don't have to go through it alone! You tell yourself you're the lone wolf, afraid of nothing. But it's a bluff, like your poker game. Your front is much different than what you feel inside," Danny replied simply, retrieving his suit jacket from the floor and putting it back on.

"Not totally true, Danny," Coop muttered, seating himself on the carpet and looking at the bookshelf. "I used to be 100% confident, afraid of nothing, except the queer thing. I will admit the army took a lot of that away; they forgot the rebuild part after breaking us down. I still convince people that the person I used to be still exists. I think I even felt aspects of the old me coming back a few weeks ago and I convinced Jimmy that's who I am, " said Coop, beginning to shake his head.

"But when the people closest to you shatter your notions, well, you begin to think what you felt just might be a lie. I could handle Pop being an asshole to me; I don't think we've really had much real going between us in years. But Jimmy, after what he said to me, I really didn't care what happened to me for a while. Then I head up to that gray place, realize it's almost over and I couldn't stand it! I ran away from something for the first time in my life!" Coop clenched his fists and began swearing when he saw his hands trembling.

Making sure his eyes were dry, Danny seated himself next to Coop and put an arm around his shoulder.

"You realized then how much you really loved Jimmy, huh?" asked Danny.

Coop sighed as he saw Robin come back into view.

"Yeah. Even after what he said, I didn't stop caring for him. Told him to remember we were the lucky ones, didn't I? I just don't know if Jimmy could make it without me. He's a different sort from Hank."

"How do you mean? Jimmy's a pretty solid guy underneath," Danny pointed out, trying to convince Robin to approach them.

"I don't know. Hank's the type to preserve through bad shit and find a life afterwards. Jimmy would probably drift around for a few decades before coming to terms with things and letting himself live again. Hell, he still refuses to admit his marriage is nothing but a fraud when he and Eileen haven't even shared a bedroom in months!"

"Maybe." Danny shrugged, trying to hide how pleased he was Coop was dropping his guard for good. "What do you say you catch me up on the past few years?"

"Huh?" Coop took Danny's hand off his shoulder and looked at him in bewilderment.

"Like I told you before, Coop, I got to see some stuff that brought me up to speed on things with you. But I'd like to know more of what happened after, well, after we both left Penn."

Coop's eyes widened as he got to his feet. "You want to hear about selling vacuum cleaners? Boot camp? The Police Academy?"

Danny got up and craned his neck to look at Coop, wishing for the millionth time he was four inches taller.

"Sure, I told you what I'm allowed to about me. I want to hear about you."

Coop ran a head through his hair and groaned when he was greeted with oil and sweat. Coop wiped his hand on his jeans as Robin gave his leg a head butt.

"Well, let me dig through that box on the book shelf. I got some pictures that'll illustrate things.

"Sounds good, meet me in the kitchen?" asked Danny.

"Sounds fine to me."

* * *

Serge willed his legs to take him through the heavy oak door of the 5th District Police Station, but the connection from his brain seemed to have burnt out. The metal of his gun warmed from the sun, Serge crammed the pistol out of sight in his pants pocket and was thankful few people were out and about so early on a Sunday morning.

Around the corner, Captain Alfred Stinson took one final drag of his cigarette and flicked it onto the alley pavement. Putting it out underneath his black leather shoe, Stinson stuffed the last piece of his melting Almond Joy in his mouth and wiped his glasses with his shirt sleeve.

Stinson didn't have to brave the hot air for the privilege of a smoke, but things inside had gotten so oppressive he had seized the moment he had to be alone. His unkempt sandy hair drifting into his eyes, Stinson knew he had to head back into the station to see how the investigation into Sean Cooper's shooting was going. Thus far, nothing had panned out. Owen Murphy and the two officers with him had managed to corner three drug addicts and had hauled them into the station for interrogation. But all three had managed to produce solid alibis. A few hours before, Tom McCree, at last back from the scene of the shooting at the Diamond Street bridge, had brought up the theory of a jealous boyfriend getting revenge on Coop for playing around with a woman he shouldn't have. Liking Cooper as an officer and a person, Stinson had reluctantly agreed it was an angle they had to pursue. Stinson dreaded the amount of investigation that it would take to get a lead when they had a potential murderer running around on the loose.

Spitting onto the sidewalk as he came out of the alley, Stinson was stunned to see Serge frozen into place in front of the door leading into the police station. Stinson approached him slowly.

"Serge! What the hell are you doing here? Why aren't you at the hospital?" Stinson demanded, turning Serge around to face him.

Shaking his head as if realizing where he was, Serge looked at Stinson without speaking for a few moments.

"I came to see how the investigation is going, Alfie. Is Tom here?"

"No, he's out in North Philly somewhere, tracking down a possible lead," said Stinson, staring at Serge. "How's Coop doing?"

Serge blinked hard and wavered on his feet before responding, "He's alive." Serge looked down at the ground, hoping it was still true.

Stinson let out a sigh of relief and put his hands behind is head, squinting as the sun hit his eyes.

"I'm relieved to hear that. Your son is one of my best officers and I got every spare guy I have on this. A whole bunch of them are doing overtime as we speak. I've dragged in some help from 12th District for the day to day stuff. Even though a cop has been shot, we still have our duty to the public to do," said Stinson, reaching into the pocket of his white shirt for a cigarette and quickly lighting it.

"Who'd you manage to drag in?" Serge wondered aloud, scuffing his shoe along the sidewalk. With the Philadelphia Police Department barely having enough staff to keep day to day operations running in each district, Serge was surprised Stinson had convinced the 12th District Captain to give up some of his staff.

"Just a couple rookies we'll partner up with some of our experienced guys. One came over this morning and is named John Stillman. He graduated from the Academy in January and came highly recommended."

"I see," Serge muttered as he stared straight ahead into the sun.

* * *

_Though the sun filled his eyes, Serge was focused on a vision of Coop in May 1967, graduating after three months at the Police Academy._

_Sitting on a stiff folding chair at the front of the audience, Serge had grinned and clapped hard. Watching Coop, the stage lights reflecting off the golden buttons of his jacket, head up to the podium to receive his hard-earned diploma was a proud moment that had contended with only one other one._

* * *

_As he had held his newborn son in his arms on June 1, 1943, Serge marveled at how strong the baby already was. With his fists clenched, the baby looked ready for a fight. Serge dreamt his first-born and only child would follow in his footsteps. From the day he was born, Serge had felt Coop was a man who would bring honour to his family._

* * *

Serge blinked hard as the sun became unbearable and floaters filled his eyes.

* * *

_Opening his eyes, Serge screwed them shut as a vision of Coop's spit threatened to hit them._

_That had been the last time Serge had seen Coop. Desperate to make his son see sense, Serge had gone into the 5th District Police Station from the main administration office downtown. Serge had hoped a couple weeks apart had dampened the rage that had echoed into Serge's ears each time Coop had slammed down his phone. As usual, Serge had misjudged his son and Coop's reaction had been swift and sure._

_If only he could tell Coop now he didn't care about what he had found out._

* * *

"Serge, would you like me to get someone to drive you back to the hospital?" Stinson asked, tapping Serge's shoulder.

"Probably a good idea, Alfie," Serge whispered, realizing what he had come for wasn't at the station.

"Alright. I'll get Stillman from 12th to give you a lift. He's not on shift yet, but he's eager to please his superiors," Stinson laughed, trying to ease the tension that surrounded them.

* * *

"My, my, so serious!" said Danny, trying to imitate the grimace in Coop's graduation photograph. He and Coop were seated at the kitchen table, a pile of photo albums and pictures spread between them. Robin stared at them from a blue vinyl chair at the far end of the table.

"I wanted to smile, but the photographer wouldn't let us," Coop groaned. "Said it wouldn't be professional or some bullshit like that."

"Must say, you do look handsome there, though," Danny admitted as he admired the photo of Coop in his dark blue hat, jacket, and tie.

Coop raised his eyebrows and looked at Danny in confusion.

Danny flushed as he realized how he was coming across.

"Sorry, Coop. You're a great friend and all, but I don't like you that way. You're not my type."

Coop smirked back.

"Likewise."

* * *

Elizabeth's throat was raw, but the sobs refused to relent.

Beginning to feel helpless, Father Mack whispered, "God is looking out for Sean," over and over as he clasped Elizabeth's hand.

Jimmy hadn't said a word or acknowledged the group in any way since Dr. Buchanan had left the room. He stared at the door in front of him in a trance whilst glancing back at Serge's abandoned tie and jacket from time to time.

Joe stared at the line cutting deeper than ever across Jimmy's forehead, the only thing that made Jimmy look close to thirty-two when he was well-rested. Like earlier in the patrol car as they had driven towards the scene of the shooting, the words of comfort Joe was desperate for refused to come to his lips. Joe began fiddling with the top buttons of his shirt. Long hours spent waiting behind closed doors was something he still couldn't get used to.

"Where is that God damn nurse!" Jimmy thought to himself as he tried to keep his bubbling emotions under wraps. Since Serge had run off, Jimmy knew it would soon fall to him to be the one comforting Coop's mother. Always a fireball that had coached the church's Little League teams, Father Mack had begun to slow down in the past few years. Jimmy knew the long hospital wait was taking its toll on the priest's arthritic joints.

Exhausted, the only response the group gave the nurse as she banged open the door was Elizabeth gasping as she tried to stop sobbing. "If Sean can hear me, I can't let him hear me like this," Elizabeth thought in a panic as she began smoothing the wrinkled beige skirt of her dress.

A pretty young girl with black hair and brown eyes, Joe knew well by the nurse's quick movements that she was at the beginning of her shift.

"Are y'all with Sean Cooper?" the nurse asked in a light Southern accent, glancing around the small room.

Father Mack got out of his chair with effort. Once on his feet, he indicated with his right hand for Jimmy and Joe to do the same.

"Yes, we're all with Sean Cooper. Are you here to escort us?"

"Yes, Dr. Buchanan sent me," replied the nurse, adjusting the white cap over her short permed locks. "I'm Nurse Taylor, one of the Intensive Care Unit nurses."

"Very good," said Father Mack, trying to loosen his tight joints. "James, would you please come over and help Elizabeth to her feet? My hands are giving me trouble this morning."

"Of course, Father," Jimmy said quietly, offering Elizabeth his hand after he crossed the room in three large strides. Quickly, Jimmy lifted Father Mack's small leather bag with his free hand and Father Mack gave him a grateful glance.

"Thank you, Jimmy," whispered Elizabeth, clasping an arm around Jimmy's waist for support. Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at Jimmy fondly.

Jimmy turned his head away from Elizabeth's glance. While everyone said Coop was the splitting image of Serge, Coop's eyes had been his one sole inheritance from Elizabeth. It stabbed Jimmy to look at them and he doubted Elizabeth would care for him if she knew the things he had done.

Seeing the group upright, the nurse directed a hand to her right. "Follow me this way to the elevator. Intensive care is on the fifth floor."

* * *

As they crossed the halfway mark to Penn General, the rookie driving Serge back to the hospital still hadn't said a word beyond his curt hello. Not looking at Serge, John Stillman maneuvered the red and white cruiser through the light Sunday traffic.

Studying the young man with a brown buzz cut and narrowed hazel eyes hidden behind heavy black glasses, Serge decided it was just as well they were driving in silence. He wanted to be alone with his grief.

* * *

"So, what was the Police Academy like?" inquired Danny, watching Coop dump kibble into a bowl for Robin.

Letting out a meow of approval, Robin began eating so fast Danny was afraid the cat would choke.

Coop shrugged as he reclaimed his seat at the table.

"Not that hard. After boot camp, the marching and drills were a cinch! The classroom stuff of how to handle suspects was sort of boring. It's really just common sense. If they won't listen to reason, you get physical."

"Physical how?" asked Danny, feeling his stomach churn.

"Bust a shin with a nightstick, punch them in the eye, other things," Coop mumbled, looking at the tabletop. "It's not my favourite thing to do, but talking doesn't work much with the scumbags me and Jimmy have to deal with."

"And all this time, I thought you liked enlightening people with your fists," said Danny. Danny shook his head as he remembered one of Coop's more memorable locker room brawls after a rookie had accidentally spilled glove oil all over Coop's warmup pants.

Coop looked at Robin as he tried to think of how to get Danny to understand his reasoning.

"Some of the things I like to do are things that would get me classified as a fairy pretty quick. You and me both know how guys like us get treated, Danny. I got to do whatever I can to make people think otherwise."

"Coop, that has got to be one of the dumbest things you've ever said!" exclaimed Danny as he got up from his seat. "Most writers of the past how many centuries have been men?"

"That's not what I mean," Coop sighed as he slouched down into his chair. "I meant if the guys on the force or the guys on the team had thought of me as anything other than what I come across as, I'd have been sunk. Hell, I learned that when I was eight-years-old! Don't you know that's the reason I hate my first name so much?"

"No, it's something you've never told me. Uh, what is your first name again?" asked Danny, slinking back into his seat in embarrassment. Excepting the baptism flashback, he had heard the Penn coach say Coop's name once first season, but that had been it.

"Sean." Coop's face formed a grimace as if he had tasted something bitter.

"That's an alright name. I knew a few guys called that. What's wrong with it?"

"Not when people call you 'Seana' or 'Seanie'," Coop muttered, the sting still fresh after seventeen years.

"Enlighten me, please?" asked Danny, arching his back over the chair and feeling satisfied when the tension was released with a loud crack.

"Doing that will give you arthritis," Coop replied, feeling queasy at hearing the cracking vertebrae.

"Not something I got to worry about, is it now?" Danny reminded Coop, a small smile on his face.

The corners of Coop's mouth formed a slight smile.

"Sorry, Danny. I forget sometimes where we are. I guess I got another story to tell you. I just need a cold drink of something. You can stay here and watch me if you want."

"Suits me fine. My mouth needs a rest anyway," admitted Danny, realizing he was parched.

"I got orange juice, water, or booze. Take your pick."

"Orange juice sounds good for a Sunday morning," Danny replied, already looking forward to it.

Coop grinned.

"Alright, two of those coming up."

* * *

Coming up to a triage desk staffed by half a dozen nurses, Nurse Taylor stopped the group's trek down the hall.

"Alright, I'm going to make sure Dr. Buchanan is ready to have y'all in there. You best get ready, Father. Dr. Buchanan thought it important that the Last Rites be done as soon as possible," said Nurse Taylor, before she disappeared into a room directly opposite the nurses' station.

Joe headed for a free space along the taupe and purple wall and leaned against it as dread threatened to topple him over. If Coop's room was this close to the nurse's station, the situation was indeed grave.

"I'm sure she just wants me to give Sean God's blessing as soon as possible," Father Mack said in a reassuring voice to Elizabeth as she began sobbing. Taking Elizabeth into his free arm, Father Mack stole a glance at Jimmy and was disheartened to see the tormented look that had come to Jimmy's eyes.

Catching Father Mack's eye, Jimmy gritted his jaw and shook his head as he ricocheted away the horrible thoughts of funerals and eulogies he was allowing himself to think. If the situation was reversed, Coop would still be in the waiting room, giving Dr. Buchanan a piece of his mind.

"Alright, Dr. Buchanan says y'all can go in now," said Nurse Taylor, emerging from Coop's hospital room.

Joe looked up at Jimmy and shook his head. He wasn't going to intrude on the grief of Cooper's family or relive his bad memories of nine years prior any further.

Shooting Joe an understanding glance, Jimmy began to steel himself for what he was about to see.

"Come on Elizabeth, it's time," whispered Father Mack, easing Elizabeth out of his arms.

Elizabeth began shaking her head as tears dripped onto her dress.

"I'm sorry, Father. I can't go in yet. I'm not going to let Sean hear me like this."

"James, could you please stay out here with Elizabeth?" Father Mack pleaded, pulling his reading glasses out of the pocket of his tweed jacket. Opening his small leather bag, Father Mack's face relaxed as he saw he had remembered the jar of sacred oil.

Jimmy nodded his head as he pulled Elizabeth towards him.

"Alright, please show me the way," said Father Mack, looking and sounding far more prepared than he felt.

Looking at the aging priest with doubt, Nurse Taylor took Father Mack's free hand and began leading him into the room. "Just so you're prepared, Father, there's a lot of stuff around the bed. Just keep in mind it's all in place to help Sean."

"I understand," replied Father Mack quietly, not sure what he was about to see. As the head priest of St. Anthony's Parish, Father Mack had become well accustomed to giving the Last Rites to the elderly, the terminally ill, and those about to undergo a major surgical procedure. Going into an intensive care unit was a new experience for him.

A few feet into the room, Father Mack stopped when he spotted Dr. Buchanan studying the settings on a mechanical box emitting a loud hissing noise. Spotting an intravenous bag full of blood that made his stomach turn, Father Mack turned his eyes to Coop and almost fainted.

A long plastic tube was taped in place through Coop's dry, parted lips and led back to the loud machine. Dried blood was caked in Coop's hair and forehead. Stitches stood out on Coop's pale face near his left eyebrow. Though a white sheet and light blue blanket covered most of Coop's bare chest, white bandages covering the bullet wound under his right shoulder and the long scar down his chest from his surgery were still visible. Coop's right arm was draped over his chest in a white sling. Long, clear plastic tubes emerged from each side of Coop's chest. Blood tinged fluid occasionally passed through the two tubes on Coop's right side.

"The priest is here, doctor," said Nurse Taylor, tapping Dr. Buchanan's right shoulder.

"Ah, thank you," said Dr. Buchanan, tugging his mustache as he turned around. "Everything is stable for the moment. Could you please stay with Father Mackintosh and keep an eye on the patient, Nurse Taylor?

"Of course," replied Nurse Taylor, adjusting the drip on a bag of saline.

"Good, I'm going to go to the nurses' station to update them on the situation. I will be back to check-in in about fifteen minutes. Given the situation, I'm going to also let them know regular visiting restrictions aren't in place."

"Doctor, could you please wait a moment?" asked Father Mack, pulling the bottle of oil out of his bag.

"Yes, Father? What is it?" sighed Dr. Buchanan, squinting in the dim light.

"I know you have a job to do. And that you have to give an honest prognosis of your patients," Father Mack began, taking off his tweed jacket after placing the bottle of oil on a table near the door. "But, could you please give Sean's mother some impression that there's hope in this situation?"

Looking at Father Mack's balding salt-and-pepper hair, Dr. Buchanan wasn't sure what to say. All his medical training and experience dictated what the outcome of this situation would be. But he felt he couldn't say that to the tired green eyes burning through him.

"There is always reason to hope, Father. I will make sure Mrs. Cooper knows that," whispered Dr. Buchanan, giving his mustache one last tug.

"Thank you, my son. May God be with you."

* * *

Squeezing a third orange around the metal juicer, Coop stopped abruptly as a familiar scent invaded his nostrils. He began squinting and wrinkles formed on his forehead as he tried to remember what it was.

"Something the matter, Coop?" asked Danny, looking up from the photo album that contained snapshots of the Penn baseball team.

Turning around to face Danny, Coop began shaking his head. "This is going to sound crazy, but I swear I just smelt chrism."


	21. Murphy's Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Part of this chapter and title are inspired by Murphy's Boy, written by Torey Hayden. No copyright infringement intended.

"Chrism? What is that?" asked Danny, his eyes growing round as saucers.

"You know, that sacred oil stuff priests use when they baptize babies and that sort of thing," said Coop, his nose wrinkling as the smell became stronger.

"Didn't know, actually. I was Jewish. But, aside from Hanukah and Bar Mitzvahs, we never did much religious stuff in my family," explained Danny, arching an eyebrow.

"Well, whatever, can't you smell it?"

Danny's nose crinkled as he took in a strong whiff of air. "Uh, I only smell oranges and a bit of gin. Are you sure you're smelling what you think you are?" asked Danny, looking puzzled as he wondered if the alcohol was affecting Coop after all.

Coop's eyes narrowed as he glared at Danny. "Course I'm sure! I was an altar boy till I was almost eighteen! I must've gone to a good thousand masses where I smelt it!"

"A thousand masses? You must be exaggerating," said Danny.

Coop groaned and furrowed his brow as he tried to do the calculations in his head. "Let's see, there's fifty-two weeks in a year, I started as an altar boy when I was six, so that's uh twelve years, three masses a week for twelve years…damn, I can't do it without paper, but I know it's over a thousand!" Annoyed about being reminded of his inabilities in math, Coop finished juicing the third orange and began to cut the fourth one in half.

Danny whistled as he figured out the sum. "One-thousand-eighteen-hundred-and-seventy-two masses. At least by my count."

"Yeah, so much wasted time," Coop muttered as he began juicing the fourth orange.

"Aw, couldn't have been so bad if you did it till you were almost eighteen. Why'd you stop?"

"Simple. I was graduating high school and headed for college. It was free time I no longer had. And if I hadn't the wrath of my pop to fear, I'd have quit way before that," said Coop, as he finished preparing the first glass of orange juice.

"Do I detect a slight bit of sourness towards religion?" asked Danny, accepting the glass of orange juice Coop offered him and taking a large sip.

"Religion has screwed up the world more than anything else," said Coop in a blunt voice as he began slicing another orange in half. A look of fear passed through Coop's eyes. "Uh, your uh…well, that guy you keep referring to, he ain't going to strike me dead for saying that, will he?"

Danny licked off some juice that had stuck to his lip before replying, "The Boss? Nah. He feels people are entitled to their opinions, so long as they don't hurt anyone. You get to practice whatever religion or spiritual beliefs you want to in Eternity, anyway. No one is ostracized or separated by religion."

"Hmm, I'm starting to like the sound of that place. Maybe I shouldn't have been so hasty," Coop muttered, turning his back on Danny as he tried to focus on filling up his own glass of orange juice.

Pretending not to have heard Coop's last statement, Danny took a small sip of juice and began a staring contest with Robin.

* * *

Finishing the last solemn verse, Father Mack finished making a cross in oil on Coop's left hand. Feeling a wave of nausea from staring at Coop's battered body, Father Mack twisted around and headed towards Nurse Taylor as fast as his tight, aching joints would let him.

"Are you finished, Father?" asked Nurse Taylor in a soft whisper as she offered Father Mack the tweed jacket he had flung over his leather bag on the small table near the door.

Placing the oil down on the table, Father Mack accepted his jacket and put it back on with effort. "Yes, Sean has received my blessing and all we can do now is pray for his recovery."

"Yes," Nurse Taylor replied, staring at Coop's motionless body with a solemn expression. It seemed to her what had happened to Coop was a tragic way for a brave, young policeman to meet his end. A wicked waste of a life. But she felt it best to keep her negative thoughts to herself and reassure the aging priest. "Medical science has done all it can for him. There comes a time when you have to ignore statistics and rely on your faith," stated Nurse Taylor in a voice she hoped sounded positive.

"Very true," whispered Father Mack, retrieving his handkerchief from his breast pocket and blowing his nose. "I trust you have seen many miracles occur within these walls?"

"Well, I've not been here in Philadelphia very long. I only just graduated from nursing school," Nurse Taylor admitted, her creamy skin flushing. "But you read of the miracle recoveries the doctors can't explain. No reason it can't happen here."

"I'm glad you think so," said Father Mack, putting the oil back in his bag and snapping it shut. "I hope you won't let the negative parts of this vocation jade you from its beautiful aspects. Trying to heal the sick is a beautiful profession."

A slight smile crept across Nurse Taylor's mouth, afraid any words she might offer would tarnish Father Mack's ideal vision of nursing.

"Anyway, we really must get back into the hall. Surely Elizabeth is ready to come in now," Father Mack murmured, clenching his bag in his right hand and rubbing his rosary with the other.

"Of course, right this way, Father."

* * *

Just as Serge was beginning to think the car journey would never end, rookie John Stillman screeched the patrol car to a halt in the parking lot of Penn General.

"We're here, Inspector," said Stillman, maneuvering the car into a free space.

"Thank you," Serge murmured, opening the door. As he tried to get up, Serge cursed as he was held in place for reasons he couldn't figure out.

Shooting Serge a look of sympathy that cracked his reserved exterior, Stillman reached over and clicked open Serge's seatbelt. "You forgot to do your belt up, sir. I did it before we took off from the station. That's why you couldn't get out of the car just now."

For a moment, Serge glowered at Stillman, ready to give the cocky rookie a piece of his mind. But his fury dissipated as quickly as he had felt it gathering. Swallowing his pride, Serge mumbled a thank you to Stillman for the ride and asked the young man if he would be staying.

Stillman shook his head. "Captain Stinson gave me orders to drop you off and then go right back to the station. He needs me out on patrol."

"Oh, well, that would make sense," mumbled Serge as he opened his car door, wondering how his mind had become so scattered as he tried to smooth his wrinkled shirt.

Gritting his teeth, Stillman looked down as he bid Serge farewell. "All the guys at 12th District are praying for Coop, sir. He's a bit of a cowboy legend down there. Our captain is always holding him up as an example to us rookies because he's so successful at busts. Even if he is a bit rough around the edges."

A sad smile crossing his lips as pride and grief fought in his heart, Serge slammed his door shut as he gave Stillman a final, silent wave.

Watching the tires from the patrol car stir up dust as Stillman sped off, Serge became cognizant of the pistol stashed in his pants pocket. Sensing he couldn't bring a loaded gun into the hospital without his badge on him, Serge looked around in a panic for a place to stash it. Spotting a wastebasket near the entrance, Serge thanked God it was an early Sunday morning with no one about as he walked over and deposited the gun into the trash. Wiping rotten meat juice on his pants, Serge took a deep breath as he entered the hospital and made his way to the reception desk.

* * *

Danny tried to make his orange juice last as he took small sips. Though Danny had long since conceded the contest, Robin continued to study Danny intently.

His glass full, Coop gathered up the orange peels and dumped them into the small wastebasket that lived in the cupboard beneath the kitchen sink. Tossing the sticky juicer into the sink, Coop grabbed his juice and plopped himself into a seat directly across from Danny. Taking a sip and wincing as the sour, acidic taste hit his tongue, Coop stared at Danny without saying a word.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" asked Danny, twitching his left foot as he began to feel nervous.

"Well?" Coop inquired, placing his glass on the table and folding his hands.

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to tell me the way I'm thinking is stupid, that I got a lot to still live for and all that jazz?" Coop asked as he wondered why Danny's mind was so slow all of a sudden.

Danny shrugged as he drained the rest of his orange drink in one quick gulp. Wiping some juice that had dribbled down his chin with his coat sleeve, Danny paused for a moment before replying,"Well, that particular aspect of this choice is one of those things you have to decide for yourself, Coop. I can't interfere."

Groaning in annoyance that Danny was rebuffing him, Coop decided to rephrase his question. "Bullshit, Danny! That's what you've been doing all morning! But whatever, I'll ask you something else. Am I not right in thinking of Heaven or whatever you call it is as a great place or aren't I? From what you've been telling me, it's somewhere where I wouldn't have to live in fear anymore and where I would just be accepted at face value without having to create some façade that really isn't who I am."

Batting his empty glass back and forth between his hands, Danny bit his lip as he tried to think of the right thing to say.

"You're right, Coop. Eternity is a great place and people are a lot more accepting there. There really isn't much to worry about up there and if you do choose to go up there, you'd have a pretty carefree existence. It's not perfect, though. It's pretty lonely a lot of the time."

"With so much company up there, how could it be lonely?" Coop wondered aloud as Robin hopped up onto the table. If it had been the day previous, Coop would have shooed Robin off the table, but such petty things no longer mattered to him.

Danny sighed and sweat began to run down his face.

"It's lonely because most everyone who mattered to me when I was alive is still down on Earth. I mean, it's great seeing my grandparents again, but it's not the same as having my parents around. Or my friends. Or Hank. Sure, I get to check up on them to make sure they're okay. But it's not the same. I can't have a conversation with them, go out for dinner, watch a baseball game. I'm just a ghost on the outside looking in. I don't know how long it will be before I get to interact with them again. This is the longest conversation I've had in four years."

Coop looked down, realizing Danny was telling him something he hadn't considered since bolting from the gates. If he decided to leave Earth for good, it would be who-knows-how-long before he could be with Jimmy again.

Looking up and catching Robin's gaze, Coop knew Robin didn't stand a chance if he left. Jimmy had come to like him, but Coop guessed Eileen would never let Jimmy keep a cat that had anything to do with him. His parents adopting the cat also would never happen. His mother had severe allergies to animal dander and Coop had a feeling his pop would dump Robin at the pound the first opportunity he had.

Then there was his mother to consider. Serge notwithstanding, Coop was the only family she had left. Him dying was sure to almost destroy her.

Still, not wanting to let Danny have the satisfaction that he might be right, Coop ricocheted those thoughts out of his subconscious. Instead, Coop snorted and shot Danny a cold smirk.

"Some friends you have to miss, Danny. Don't you remember how your teammates treated you the moment Harvey told them your dirty little secret? Hell, all they could say when they heard you were dead was, "That dirty little queer got what he had coming!" And let's not even begin to go back into how my own father treated me when he found out what I was. What's there to miss?"

Danny frowned as memories of having balls thrown at him on purpose and ignored on the bus that last week on the team resurfaced, but he shrugged them away.

"I miss the people who stood by me once they found out who I really was. So, at the very least, that would leave you, Deborah, and Hank. Three of the best friends I ever had. Even the crowd at the Hush Room I miss. That was somewhere I didn't have to be afraid. Minus the morons hanging around outside that lead to my demise of course, but I try to not to think of them. Being mad at them won't change my situation."

Coop looked down as guilt gnawed away at him. Pulling Robin off the table and into his arms, Coop stared at the "M" marking the tabby cat's forehead.

"Come on, Danny. I was a rotten friend to you those last few weeks. We barely spoke after you quit the team."

"Coop, that was because I told you to do that, remember?" Danny reminded Coop as he tapped a finger against his juice glass. "For your own protection, I told you to keep your distance from me, at least until you graduated from Penn that December. There was no point in both of us having our athletic careers ruined."

Coop looked up and his face hardened. "Didn't matter, did it? After you died, baseball just wasn't fun anymore. Couldn't stand being around those hypocrites that I once called my teammates, either. If they knew the lie I was living, they wouldn't have been so friendly to me. Four years ago, I couldn't understand why you'd hang around a hellhole like the Hush Room and risk the chance of people finding out about you. But I think I do, now. You just wanted to be accepted and not have to lie to yourself anymore."

"But I'm still lying to myself, as much as I kept trying to tell Jimmy we didn't have to hide in fear. I forced myself to keep dating women so I could survive among guys who think raiding bathhouses and busting the skulls of queers is fun. A right they feel justified and ordained by God, no less. Funny thing, ain't it? There's constitutional bullshit in place that would defend me if I decided to hate blacks. Hate has rights, love and acceptance have none." Coop's nostrils flared as he shook his head with disgust.

Well attuned to the moods of his master, Robin gave Coop's hand a sympathetic lick.

Wordlessly, Coop buried his face in Robin's rough fur. At least there was one creature that had been created who hadn't rejected him in some way.

"I can't deny that society isn't messed up in a lot of ways," Danny admitted, after taking a minute to digest Coop's speech. "I keep hoping one day things will sort themselves out, so guys like us can just live life without fear. Until then, I guess we have to fight for our happiness."

"That's the point, Danny." Coop sighed as he placed Robin back on the table. "I'm sick and tired of having to fight for everything. After seventeen years of doing it, it's getting old. Kind of strange I can mark when I began living my lie, but I can. Remember that story I was going to tell you? I'm going to keep it short, though."

"About why you hate your first name?" Danny asked, feeling a bit sick at the rollercoaster thought train Coop had him on.

"Yeah, that." A bitter smile came to Coop's face as he began staring at something beyond Danny. "I was a scrawny, undersized kid. That's usually a recipe for a childhood of hell, but I was liked well enough because I was good at baseball. In the fall though, when most of the other boys in my class would play football, I sat out to play marbles with the non-athletic kids. I tried to tell myself it was because I was afraid of getting hurt, being small and all, or that I hated football. But it was really the fights I wanted to avoid. The other boys would get into fights all the time when they played football, and the thought of it made me sick. At the time, you see, I believed my teachers when they said most battles of the world could have been solved with words instead of violence."

Coop's voice grew quiet and his hands began to tremble as he began reliving the memory.

"But third grade came round and the tough kids wouldn't leave me alone during football anymore. When word got around that I refused to fight, I was no longer "Sean," just another kid on the playground, but "Seana" or "Seanie," a little wimp who couldn't stand up for himself, someone who didn't deserve the dignity bestowed upon the rest of the human race."

Danny began to feel twitchy and he sat on his hands so Coop wouldn't see.

"You can understand that after a while I had to put a stop to it. I'd taken boxing lessons at the Y for over a year, but never exercised my skills until this kid named Shane Campbell took it too far. I was just organizing a marble game, minding my own business when he came along and threw mud in my face. He said, "I heard little girls like you Seana like to eat mud pies. I wanna see it."

"Shane came over to grab me by the hair, to force my face in the mud and humiliate me in front of everyone. But I showed him. Got to my feet and punched him until his fat ass fell flat in the mud. He begged for mercy, saying, "Come on Sean, I was just kidding." Before spitting in his face and force feeding him mud, I told him my name wasn't Sean, but Coop and that he and the other kids had better not forget it. I was going to say Cooper, but Coop is what came out. Sounded tougher, anyways."

Coop shook his head and a weary look came to his eyes as the memory faded.

"Anyway the little prick tattled on me and I got a pretty good thrashing by the principal and detention for a week because of it. But Pop was proud of me, for something besides baseball for once. And the other kids really respected me once I began fighting and accepting all challenges. When you think about it, Sean Cooper really did die that day. Only my mother and Father Mack are the diehards who refuse to call me what I want to be called. Father Mack, well, he can't help it. He calls everyone by their proper Christian name. He even calls Jimmy "James." Kinda weird when I think about it though, since Father Mack goes by a nickname of his own. My mother, god, just calls me Sean to piss me off."

"Well, parents can't help it, either," Danny muttered, eying Coop carefully for signs of an emotional eruption. "They name you something and they want to call you that. Took my mom until I was twenty to finally call me Danny instead of Daniel."

"Well, if Pop can do it, Ma could do it too," protested Coop as he picked up a photo of himself in his green military dress uniform. The smiling boy with a beige background behind him was stranger he no longer recognized. Scowling, Coop almost crumbled the photo into a ball for Robin to chase, but decided against it, flinging it back onto the table instead.

"Why does it have to be so black and white, Coop?" asked Danny, picking up the picture Coop had tossed.

"What the hell are you talking about now?" growled Coop as he bolted down the rest of his orange juice whilst trying to figure out Danny's latest tangent. Looking at the drying pulp in distaste, Coop got up and picked up both empty juice glasses. Placing them on the counter, Coop leaned against it and crossed his arms as he awaited Danny's reply.

Drumming his fingers on the countertop, Danny swallowed, his throat already feeling dry.

"What I mean is, does how you act have to be all or nothing? Can't you settle for a happy medium somewhere?"

Coop sighed as he got back into his seat, mumbling, "I dunno."

"I mean, I get that you have to act the way you do on the job. No argument there. But you got to quit being afraid of letting those you love see the real you. At the very least, can't you let Jimmy in?"

Coop shook his head as a small smirk came to his face. "There are some things that you spare from the people you love. There are some secrets Jimmy doesn't need to know. I ain't no baby killer like those hippies think all of us are, but Jimmy doesn't need to know that you can get comfortable killing. That it becomes as easy as shooting a target at the range. I don't want him to know it's possible to lose your humanity and end up caring about nothing."

"Well, I'm calling your bluff on that one," said Danny, feeling the colour drain from his face. "You and I both know you never really got comfortable with it, Coop. The scared little eight-year-old afraid of hearing his fist bash against the skull of another boy is still alive and well. One of the things I got to see before I came here was the faces of those you shot. The ones you see crying blood when you close your eyes at night. I've heard the screams that make your heart pound and I know you make yourself drink a pot of coffee in the hopes you won't fall asleep and have to experience it again in the same night."

"If you're trying to incite I'm a murderer, I already knew that," whispered Coop as he pulled Robin onto his lap. "Do you get now why I'm still confused as to why I'm not in Hell by now?"

"You're not a murderer; you did what you had to do to survive. Going to Vietnam wasn't your choice," reminded Danny, pushing his chair beside Coop and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Why do you think you feel so bad about it, Coop? Because you got compassion, that's why. You had to numb yourself to survive combat, I get that."

Coop sighed as his eyes drifted away from Danny and onto the tabletop. "If I hadn't distanced myself, Danny, I would have gone crazy. Or crazier. Besides, you can only see so many dead bodies before it stops affecting you."

"Well, now that you're past Vietnam and back home safe, you're going to have to deal with what happened to you at some point," persisted Danny. "I wish I knew what to suggest, because you and I both know you will never see a shrink. I still think opening up to Jimmy if you head back is your best alternative. Drinking yourself into a stupor every chance you get isn't solving your problems. If you do decide to head back to Earth, your road won't be easy and you'll need some strong support to get through it."

"Jimmy ain't an option. Last night made it clear that I've already taken him beyond his limit. I ain't putting Jimmy through any more pain. So, until you know what else to suggest for Murphy's boy here, then I will do what I gotta do to handle my problems," muttered Coop, giving Danny a hard glare.

"Who's Murphy's boy?" wondered Danny, looking around the room in confusion.

Seeing the questioning look in Danny's eyes, Coop removed Danny's hand from his shoulder and placed Robin on the floor before getting to his feet. Crossing his arms behind his back, Coop stared into his backyard before asking Danny, "You know Murphy's Law?"

"The saying that anything that can go wrong will? Yeah, I know it. Why do you ask?" said Danny, trying to guess what Coop was getting at.

Coop turned around and his face broke into a sudden warm grin.

"I knew you'd know. I miss having smart guys like you around me, Danny. You see, given the train wreck my life has become, I reckon I just might be Murphy's boy. Everything that could have gone wrong this month has. Refute that, Mr. Lawyer."

"I can quite easily, Coop," said Danny calmly, stretching and cracking his knuckles. "But you need to calm down first. I'm declaring a brief recess of poker before I go into the silver lining."

"A silver lining? You've got to be off your nut, Danny!"

"Coop, you resolved earlier in the cellar you'd listen to me. And yes, since you're wondering, I can hear some of what you're thinking. Another talent. So, are you going to take my advice and calm down?" asked Danny evenly, digging out the deck of cards and poker chips from underneath the pictures that littered the table.

"Fine, but whatever you come up with had better be good," mumbled Coop, crashing into his seat and scraping his chair towards the table angrily. Giving Danny a fierce gaze, Coop grabbed the cards away from Danny and began shuffling without speaking.


	22. Broken Promises

The silence in the kitchen was broken only by the sounds of shuffling cards and the ticking of the electric clock on the wall by the fridge. The card game not capturing his interest, Robin had fallen asleep by the back door in a puddle of sunlight filtering through the glass.

Danny studied Coop as closely as he had studied legal briefs. But Coop's straight face gave no clue as to what he seemed to be thinking so intently about.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Danny asked as Coop began handing out the cards he had shuffled.

Coop bit as his lip as he paused his card dealing. Offering Danny a shrug, Coop shook his head. "Nah, they're real junk."

Without a word, Danny began to pick up his cards. Years of bunking in cheap motels and dorms with the man opposite had taught him well that if he were patient, Coop would reward him with an earful.

* * *

Being careful not to disturb the tubing emerging from Coop's mouth, Dr. Buchanan pulled open one eyelid with his thumb whilst flashing the beam from a penlight into the eye with his other hand.

* * *

Coop squinted and rubbed his eyes with a grunt. The cards Coop had been holding in his hands floated onto the floor with a soft rattle.

The sudden noise caused Danny to look up from the hand he was examining. Studying Coop with a worried expression, Danny asked, "Something the matter?"

The irritation gone, Coop focused his eyes on Danny. "I don't know what happened, but it felt like the sun was in my eyes. Must just be the glare from that bright light over the table. I'm gonna pick up my cards, don't you dare look at them!" Coop ordered. Shaking his head, Coop swore under his breath as he strained to pick up his fallen cards without having to get up from his chair.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Danny muttered, staring up at the light. The frosted lamp cover was dark and the only light coming into the kitchen was the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window and the glass door.

* * *

Easing Coop's other eyelid shut, Dr. Buchanan turned to Nurse Taylor.

"Pupils are small, but reactive to light. No change. Please record that on the chart, Marie," said Dr. Buchanan with a shake of his head. Dr. Buchanan felt relief he had some good news to report to Mrs. Cooper; despite his earlier predictions, there was some evidence of higher brain function.

Finishing making notions on Coop's chart, Nurse Taylor placed them into the holder at the foot of the bed.

"Do you want me to see if the family is ready to come in yet?"

"Not just yet," said Dr. Buchanan, replacing the penlight in the pocket of his white lab coat. "I'm heading off duty, so I want to fill them in on the patient's current condition. And to let them know who the doctor taking over after me is. After I'm done though, you can take them in here. The mother is very emotional, which is of course understandable. I think it would be best if you remained in the room with her, Marie."

"No problem."

"Thank you."

Heading towards the doorway, a feeling of guilt tugged at Dr. Buchanan. Though it was Sunday, Dr. Buchanan knew he would be skipping services at St. Mark's Anglican Church in favour of sipping dry his flask of scotch in the comfort of his study. It had become so much harder of late not to become emotionally involved in cases that concerned people the same age as his own son. Dr. Buchanan had long ago concluded preserving his sanity outweighed his religious obligations.

* * *

"So, in summary, Sean is still very critical. While he is currently stable, things could change at any moment. However, the fact he is still alive and showing appropriate neurological responses is good reason to have hope. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will be vital. If Sean remains stable through that period, that will give me more hope," explained Dr. Buchanan to Elizabeth and Jimmy. Father Mack had disappeared to the floor below to telephone Father William, the priest conducting Mass in his place.

"Thank God," Elizabeth whispered as she clenched Jimmy's hand and dug her nails into his flesh. Tears of relief escaped from her eyes.

Despite the pain, a closemouthed grin broke across Jimmy's face for a moment. "Hell," Jimmy thought, "Coop's never backed away from  _any_ confrontation. Even one with me. Why should a little fight with death be any different?"

With a weary sigh, Dr. Buchanan glanced at his watch and felt relief that his shift was now over. "Anyway, I am afraid I must be going. I'm off shift. Dr. Tomlinson will be here soon. She is one of our best physicians. And the nurses are all very experienced," said Dr. Buchanan, gesturing to the nurses' station in front of him. "Sean will be in good hands. Right, Nurse Anderson?"

A nurse in her mid-forties with greying brown hair and thick cat's eye glasses looked up and gave Dr. Buchanan a nod of her head as she sipped a cup of lukewarm coffee.

"Nurse Taylor, would you please take Mrs. Cooper and this gentleman in to see Sean? Dr. Tomlinson should be checking up on him in the next twenty minutes."

Nurse Taylor replied with a quick nod before Dr. Buchanan turned away and began to head for the elevator. "Are you ready to go in now, Mrs. Cooper?"

"I just need a minute, thank you," said Elizabeth, trying to compose herself as she reached for a tissue in her handbag. Remembering she had left her purse at home, Elizabeth flushed with embarrassment.

Studying Elizabeth's face, Nurse Anderson sensed what she was after and grabbed the box of Kleenex that was always kept at the nurses' station. "Is this what you're wanting, dear?" Nurse Anderson said as she stood up and offered the box to Elizabeth.

"Yes, thank you." Elizabeth grabbed a wad of tissues and shot a look of gratitude to Nurse Anderson as she headed back for the desk. Dabbing her eyes, Elizabeth whispered an apology towards Jimmy's ear as she embraced him in a quick hug.

Realizing Jimmy and Elizabeth needed a moment alone, Nurse Taylor moved herself out of earshot.

Squirming with embarrassment and guilt, Jimmy replied it was no problem as he tugged his hand out of Elizabeth's loosening grasp. Stealing a glance above Elizabeth's head as she separated herself from Jimmy, Jimmy spotted Joe dozing in a chair that he had managed to snag.

"Mrs. Cooper," Jimmy began, staring at Elizabeth's eyebrows.

"For the millionth time, Jimmy, you can call me Elizabeth. Ever since you and Sean have become friends, you've become a second son to me."

"Uh, right, sorry," Jimmy stammered as he felt his ears go hot. "I was just thinking after Father Mack gets back I'd better take Joe over there back to the station so he can head home. Poor kid's dead on his feet. I'll come back here once I go home, clean up and tell Eileen what's going on."

"Of course Jimmy, you must be exhausted," said Elizabeth, blowing her nose. "How long have you been on shift?"

"Uh, since six." Jimmy lowered his eyes to meet Elizabeth's gaze, hoping she wouldn't question him any further.

"Am or pm?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes studying Jimmy's intently.

Jimmy lips began to form the words to say he'd only done a twelve hour shift, but his throat went dry and the words stuck to his tongue like stale bread crumbs.

"You did a double shift again. I thought so. Please Jimmy, go home and get some sleep."

Jimmy shook his head and he tried to hide the look of shame that flashed across his eyes. "Don't worry about me. You just worry about Coop. You ready to go in, Elizabeth?"

Guessing it would be useless to argue with Jimmy, Elizabeth gave an almost impeccable nod of her head as she began shredding the wad of tissues between her hands. "As ready as I'm going to be. Promise you won't let go of my hand?"

Jimmy looked up at Elizabeth and gave her a slight smile as he offered out his hand. Catching the nurse's eye, Jimmy took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to see as Nurse Taylor moved over to escort him and Elizabeth into the room.

* * *

After watching Serge wander about the hospital's main lobby aimlessly for ages, an orderly had confronted him. After Serge managed to mumble he was trying to get up to the Intensive Care Unit, the orderly's brusqueness had softened. Sighing, the orderly had stirred Serge by the shoulders to the elevator and given him directions to the intensive care floor.

As the minutes ticked by, Serge's jumbled brain was unable to tell his fingers to press the button for the fifth floor. Taking no notice of the other visitors and patients joining him from time to time, Serge rode the elevator up and down in a daze.

* * *

Danny snapped his fingers impatiently as he tried to get Coop's attention. "Coop, for the millionth time, you going to raise my bet or fold?"

His cards placed face up, Coop's hands were folded over them in a half-assed attempt to block them from Danny's view. Coop didn't answer Danny's question. Coop stared through Danny as if he were in a trance.

Danny sighed as he conjured himself up a bottle of ice cold Pepsi. Wherever Coop's mind had drifted to, it was no longer in the same room as him.

* * *

"Okay, just over this way," said Nurse Taylor in a quiet Southern drawl to Elizabeth and Jimmy as she led them into Coop's room. "Y'all going to see lots of intravenous bags and some scary looking equipment around the bed, but please keep in mind it's all in place to aid Sean's recovery. If y'all have any questions, please ask."

Jimmy kept his eyes focused on the marked white floor, the strong smell of antiseptics once again invading his nostrils. Fighting back a wave of nausea, Jimmy felt himself go numb as he heard Elizabeth gasp and begin to cry. Jimmy winced as Elizabeth's sweaty palm became icy and began to freeze his own.

Shuddering as her gaze fixated on the small white bandage that now covered the stitches above Coop's left eye, all promises to keep calm flew out of Elizabeth's mind. "Oh God, my boy! My poor little boy!" Elizabeth cried out. The wad of tissues dropping from her hand, Elizabeth slipped her hand out of Jimmy's limp grasp.

Putting an arm around Elizabeth's shaking shoulders, Nurse Taylor scrambled for words of comfort. "If you want, Mrs. Cooper, you can come over here with me and hold Sean's hand. And talk to him. Just because he's not awake doesn't mean he can't hear you."

"Please," Elizabeth whispered as she leaned against Nurse Taylor for support.

Reaching for a chair covered in a hideous shade of green vinyl, Nurse Taylor dragged it towards Coop's bed as she led Elizabeth over slowly. Placing the chair near Coop's waist so the IV lines and chest tube wouldn't be disturbed, Nurse Taylor helped Elizabeth into the chair.

"Would you like to hold Sean's hand now?"

"Yes, please," said Elizabeth, her voice choked with the sobs she was refusing to release.

Reaching over Elizabeth's shoulder, Nurse Taylor picked Coop's limp hand off the scratchy blue blanket and placed it into Elizabeth waiting palms.

The iciness of Coop's skin almost sending her into hysteria, Elizabeth made herself stop shaking as she felt the Mother Tiger stir to life. A mother's job was to be strong for their children and ease their hurts. If Coop had any sense of how scared she was, Elizabeth feared that would distract him from the fight at hand.

"Sean sweetie," said Elizabeth, "Mama's here. You have nothing to fear, Mama's here and I'm not going to leave you alone. I promise. You just focus on resting and getting better. I know this is hard Sean, but please don't give up." Elizabeth's words came out in a rapid rush as she gripped Coop's hand tight.

Hearing Elizabeth's heart-wrenching words and knowing it was his fault Coop was in this situation, Jimmy felt tears well into his own eyes and he was glad his gaze was still fixated on the floor. Biting slightly on the inside of his mouth until he drew blood, Jimmy felt relief as the stinging pain and salty, metallic taste of iron mixing with his saliva distracted him from his emotional torment.

"Excuse me, sir? Would you like to come over and have a seat beside Mrs. Cooper? I'm just going to go grab y'all some water and then I'll be right back."

"Huh?" asked Jimmy as he lifted his head and stared into wide brown puddles.

Studying Jimmy's exhausted face, Nurse Taylor could only imagine the private hell the young police officer's partner had gone through the past few hours. Nurse Taylor's family contained three generations of law enforcement officials and she remembered all too well the devastation her father had gone through after his own partner had been gunned down beside him whilst intervening in the bloodiest bank robbery Memphis had ever seen.

"So sorry to startle you. I'm just going to be leaving the room for a little bit to grab y'all some water. Would you like to take a seat beside Mrs. Cooper? I'd feel better knowing someone was beside her while I leave the room."

"Sure," Jimmy mumbled, even though he wanted nothing more to bolt from the room and never look back.

"God, I'm nothing but a God damn coward!" Jimmy thought bitterly as he allowed himself to follow Nurse Taylor and take a seat in the disgusting looking chair she pulled up to the bed for him. Jimmy looked at Nurse Taylor, his feet, the ceiling. Anywhere but Coop's bed.

Sighing that she had to interrupt Elizabeth's silent vigil, Nurse Taylor tapped Elizabeth on the shoulder gently. "Mrs. Cooper, so sorry to disturb you. I'm leaving the room for just a minute. Mr…uh…"

"Bruno," Jimmy interjected.

"Thank you. Mr. Bruno will be staying right beside you. If y'all need anything before I get back, the nurses' station is right across the hall."

Without turning away from Coop, Elizabeth nodded her head. Freeing her left hand, Elizabeth searched blindly for Jimmy's hand.

Sighing as Elizabeth's hand tightened around his wrist, Jimmy forced himself to look at Coop's blanket as he heard Nurse Taylor's footsteps fade into the hallway and the hissing of the respirator become the only sound in the room. Jimmy hoped studying the man before him piecemeal, focusing on the subtle elements of creation, would ease him into the scene. Feeling claustrophobic, Jimmy eased his chair back slightly and the whole horrible picture came into sudden focus.

The IVs, the huge white bandages, and blood dried in Coop's hair almost knocked Jimmy out of his chair. But it was the paleness of Coop's flesh and the dusting of freckles across his cheeks standing out like dark splotches of ink that haunted him most. If not remembering Elizabeth was right beside him, Jimmy might have thrown himself on Coop's lifeless body.

Feeling Jimmy tremble slightly, Elizabeth turned to Jimmy. "Would you like to hold his hand with me, Jimmy? To let Sean know you're here?"

Not trusting himself to speak without breaking down, Jimmy gave Elizabeth a small nod. Before Jimmy could prepare himself, he found his hand intertwined in Coop's and Elizabeth's.

"Sean, Jimmy's here. Jimmy and Mommy are both here. For as long as this fight takes, you won't be alone. We promise."

"That's right, Coop. We ain't going to leave you alone," Jimmy whispered, gripping Elizabeth and Coop's hands with the grip that had kept the walkie-talkie steady so many hours earlier.

* * *

"I promise Ma, I'll never worry you like that again," Coop whispered.

Startled at hearing Coop suddenly speak, Danny dropped his empty Pepsi bottle onto the table. Letting out a yowl of panic, Robin bolted out of the kitchen and into the safety of the living room.

The hollow thud dragged Coop away from his mother's embrace and his face looked old for a moment as he came back into the kitchen.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Coop demanded as he watched Danny upright the tipped glass bottle.

"Sorry, you startled me," apologized Danny as he looked at Coop in puzzlement. "What's this promise you're talking about?"

"And what the hell are you nattering about? I've been waiting forever for you to make your poker move," Coop mumbled, hoping Danny wouldn't realize his attention had drifted away from the game.

"I was listening pretty close there, Coop. You said something about not worrying your mother."

"Damn. Well, Danny, since you seem to know everything I think, I don't need to tell you this one, do I?" Coop sneered at Danny in contempt.

"Uh, it's sort of a talent I don't have full power of yet," Danny admitted as he piled red poker chips into a neat stack. "So, when you're not in the same dimension as me, I can't really pick up on your thoughts."

Coop sighed as he began tossing his cards towards the centre of the table one by one and asked, "You know what I promised my ma Danny when I came home from Vietnam? When we were finally alone in my room after Pop quit making a big deal in front of the guys he invited over for a homecoming party?"

"No, I don't know," Danny replied, raising an eyebrow as he realized the poker game was over. Thus far, Coop hadn't mentioned his mother in any major way.

"I promised her I'd never worry her like that again. You know, making her scared that the only way I'd ever come home would be in a coffin. She realized me going overseas was something I hadn't any control over. But, I could control my future after that, ya know? And two weeks later, I broke that promise. I joined the force and became a cop. The one job she never wanted me to get. Ma didn't want my future wife or kids having the worry that we lived with over the years. Worrying that each kiss good-bye would be the last. A better kind of life is what she wanted for me, you see. I don't think she's forgiven me for it and I don't blame her. I've turned out to be a pretty rotten son."

"Coop, I really don't think that's true," said Danny, getting up and pacing over to the kitchen sink. "I can't pretend to know what you were going through or thinking when you got back, but I think you did the best you could for yourself at the time. You realized pretty quick you had to do something that would let you be self-sufficient. The Police Academy was that quickest ticket."

"As for you being a bad kid, I think that's crap. I mean, aside from getting into a few scuffles, you've never really gotten into trouble. What happened to you just now was way beyond your control."

Leaning against the sink, Danny turned away from Coop to pull himself together. Coop suspecting that his shooting bore circumstances that paralleled his own wouldn't do him any good.

"Maybe." Coop shrugged as he grabbed more cards and began tossing them haphazardly onto the pile forming atop a photo album. "But maybe if I hadn't forced Jimmy into this whole…mess, maybe things wouldn't have happened the way they did. And god, right now is a time I really wish I did have a bottle of scotch or something."

"And I wish I had a box of fine Cuban cigars, but I have limits as to what I can bring before us. And, coulda, woulda, shoulda, and all that stuff won't change things."

"What do you mean?"

"Coop, you can wish you did this or that and everything differently till you're blue in the face. But it won't change things. I mean, I told myself for over a year when I first went into Eternity that if I'd only taken your advice and quit smoking, maybe I'd still be alive. If I hadn't smoked, maybe I'd not have taken that matchbook from the Hush Room and dropped in on the practice field at Penn. Then Harvey wouldn't have spotted it and been the spark that made me quit the team. I'd have been in New York with the team and nowhere near that alley I died in," Danny explained, reclaiming his seat and stretching his arms above his head.

"But I realized I'd probably have still taken the matchbook. Despite that scholarship, you know things were tight for an out of state student. I had to grab any freebies I could find. Hank smoked like a chimney and I always needed matches on hand. Besides, what happened happened. All the wishing it the world won't bring me back to life. I mean, don't think I just accepted it. I did a lot of screaming and moaning those first few months up there. But, after a while, it was time to move on and make the best of the situation I was in."

"I guess that's one thing you're right about, Danny," Coop admitted, tightening his jaw as another thought came to him. "By the way, how long have I got to decide what I'm gonna do?"

Danny studied his watch and made the calculations in his head. "About seventy-two hours, give or take."

"Damn, that ain't long," Coop muttered, wiping oily sweat through his hair. "I can't have more time?"

"I'm sorry, the rules on this are set in stone. You also got to wait at least twenty-four hours after meeting me before you can say what you're doing for sure. The Boss wants to make sure you're making your choice with a clear and cool head."

"Great," Coop replied sarcastically as he grabbed a poker chip and began spinning it with his index fingers. "Because at this moment I know I want nothing more to do with that sorry excuse of a planet I've been given a reprieve from. I'm sick of being Murphy's boy. You still haven't told me why things going so rotten is a good thing."

"It's coming. There's just something else I'm supposed to warn you about and it keeps slipping my mind. I'm going to try and find it in my book here. Can I have a few minutes?" Danny pleaded as he fished the tiny rulebook out of his breast pocket.

"Sure. I'd better make sure you didn't give Robin a heart attack. If there's any reason I have to go back at this point, it would be to make sure Robin's taken care of," Coop muttered, getting up and shooting Danny a dirty look.

* * *

"Sean, I want you to know how much I love you. How much your father and I both love you. We're so proud of the good, brave man you've become," Elizabeth whispered, giving Coop's cool hand a quick kiss.

Jimmy maintained a tight grip over Elizabeth and Coop's fingers. Hoping Nurse Taylor would reappear and give him a reason to get up, Jimmy looked away from Elizabeth and Coop. Thoughts of what he was desperate to say aloud raced through his mind. "God Coop, I'm so sorry. Please hang on. I promise, I'll do whatever you want if you come back. Just don't die. Please. You have no idea how much I need you to stay. But I don't want you to stay if this is too hard. God, please just let Coop be okay!" Jimmy fingered his St. Michael's medallion with his free hand as he began to feel dizzy.

* * *

As ten 'o'clock came and went, Nurse Anderson became worried until she spotted Dr. Tomlinson dash out of the elevator.

"Sorry I'm late a bit late," Dr. Tomlinson said in a pant, her long blonde hair flying behind her as she sprinted up to the desk. "Horrible traffic in Roxborough. Do you have the patient charts for me, Donna?"

"Yes, Jill," Nurse Anderson replied as she grabbed a pile of clipboards. "It's been a mostly quiet night. The only new patient is in room three and he's very critical. Young policeman shot late last night on Diamond Street. Dr. Buchanan is amazed he made it through surgery, but he's not holding out much hope."

"I caught the tail end of the blurb about it on the radio," said Dr. Tomlinson, trying to decipher Dr. Buchanan's chicken scratch. "When was the last time he was checked?"

"About ten minutes ago by Dr. Buchanan and he's stable right now. Marie was in there just a minute ago. I think she went to get the visitors something. The mother is in there and some other gentleman. There's a priest with them, but he's downstairs phoning someone. I think there's someone else with them, but he's dozing just behind you. I didn't want to disturb him."

"Yes, probably best not to," Dr. Tomlinson replied thoughtfully as she stole a quick glance at Joe. "Anyway, I'm going to make sure Mr. Bradbury in room ten is still in good condition. If he is, we can have him moved up to the rehabilitation floor. What time are the residents starting?"

"Eleven. Dr. Peters is checking up on Mrs. Simmons in room one."

"Alright, Donna, I will see you soon," said Dr. Tomlinson, grabbing the chart for Mr. Bradbury and heading down the hallway.

Letting out a sign of relief that a doctor who took little stock of statistics was on the floor, Nurse Anderson gaze stopped on Joe's face. As she continued to stare at him, Nurse Anderson had a nagging feeling that she recognized the young boy from somewhere.

* * *

Trying to coax Robin out from underneath the table and onto his lap, Coop stopped when a tingling sensation invaded his left hand. Coop's heart began to race as he recognized a strong grip that had become as familiar the back of his hand.

Shaking his head, Coop began to whisper to himself, "Jimmy ain't anywhere near here, how the hell could he be holding my hand? I've finally lost it, haven't I Robin?"

Robin stared back at Coop as he began to creep forward towards the ottoman.

"Ha! One of these days, Slugger, you will realize most of what I say is right!"

* * *

Fearing he would faint, Jimmy lowered his head between his knees and began to count backwards from twenty.

Coming back into the room with a pitcher of water, several handkerchiefs and two paper cups, Nurse Anderson quickly placed the items on the table when she spotted Jimmy looking queasy.

"Mr. Bruno, are you alright?"

Looking up weakly and wiping sweat away from his brow with his free hand, Jimmy managed a slight grin.

"I just need some water, that's all."

"Of course, here you go," said Nurse Taylor, filling up a paper cup and offering it to Jimmy.

"Thank you." His mouth feeling bone dry, Jimmy tossed his head back and gulped the water down in one loud swallow. Jimmy winced as the stitches at the corner of his lip pulled painfully. Water dribbled down his chin and onto his neck, but Jimmy didn't care.

Handing Jimmy a handkerchief as she took away his paper cup, Nurse Taylor was relieved Jimmy wasn't about to faint onto the floor. Nurse Taylor then turned her attention to Elizabeth as she placed Jimmy's empty cup on the table. "Mrs. Cooper, would you like some water?"

"No thank you," said Elizabeth, pulling her eyes away from Coop. "Could you hand me a damp cloth, please? Sean's face is sweating terribly. This room is getting quite warm."

"Just a moment. I need to make sure he's not running a fever," Nurse Taylor replied briskly as she strolled over to the right side of Coop's bed and felt his forehead. With the injuries Coop had sustained, infection was a huge danger.

Relieved that Coop's forehead felt cool, Nurse Taylor made her way back over to the table and dipped one of the handkerchiefs into the pitcher of water. Wringing out the excess water, Nurse Taylor handed the cloth over to Elizabeth. "Just be careful not to touch the bandage on Sean's forehead. It needs to stay dry," Nurse Taylor warned.

"Of course," Elizabeth replied. "Jimmy, can you please let go?"

"Oh, sorry," Jimmy whispered sheepishly as he released his grip. With a grunt, Jimmy began to stretch the cramps out of his fingers.

"Don't worry, Sean. This cloth will help cool you down. This room is so stuffy." In a tender motion she had not done since Coop had been ill with the measles at the age of six, Elizabeth draped the cool cloth over Coop's forehead.

Inching his chair backwards as he watched Elizabeth, nagging memories of the weekend only two weeks prior flooded Jimmy's mind as he stood up. Limping over to the smoky window that faced onto the hospital parking lot, Jimmy sighed as he spotted his and Joe's patrol car. In the dark of night, Joe hadn't realized he was parking in the middle of three spots.

* * *

Coop's bloody face suddenly appearing in the middle of a critical chess match, Joe came out of his doze with a start and he tried in vain to wipe the drool that had dribbled from the corner of his mouth with the collar of his soiled white T-shirt.

Having been unable to take her eyes off of the young man she was so certain she knew from somewhere, Nurse Anderson grabbed a tissue and got up from the desk at the nurses' station. Clearing her throat, Nurse Anderson held the tissue out to Joe as he raised his head.

"Thanks," Joe muttered, dabbing his chin dry.

Joe's face now in full view, Nurse Anderson heard herself say, "Joey Malone, is that you?"

"How do you know my name?" Joe stammered, his eyes flooding with confusion as he staggered to his feet.

Craning her neck to keep Joe's face in view Nurse Anderson felt herself flush.

"Of course, forgive me Joey. I don't expect you to remember me. You were only ten when I last saw you after all."

"Wait, is that you Donna?" Joe whispered as a memory of that same face, minus the glasses and a few wrinkles, had leaned over to comfort him after his father had collapsed into the arms of his mother's lifeless, bruised body.

"Yes, it's me," Donna replied, eying Joe up and down fondly. "I must say I hardly recognize you; you're so grown up! But I've never forgotten your mother. She was such a sweet lady, a true English rose. What on earth are you doing here, Joey?"

"Um, that cop who got shot in that room over there, I was training with his partner Jimmy," Joe stammered, wringing his hands as he tried to gather his scrambled thoughts. "He got injured rushing over to help his partner, so I drove him over here to get treated. Jimmy wanted to stay after to see how his partner was, so I'm kind of hanging around until that's done. I never thought I'd see you in a place like this!"

"Well, it's been five years now since I've left the Oncology Ward," explained Donna, trying to reconcile the lanky policeman in front her with memories of a short, stocky little boy. "When they started up the Intensive Care Unit, they needed as many experienced nurses as possible. For better or worse, oncology care gave me that training."

Joe sighed. "Well, that's a relief. To know that Cooper is in good hands, I mean. I got to be honest that being back here isn't a good thing for me."

Taking Joe's hand, Donna gave him an understanding look. "I understand, Joey."

* * *

"Excuse me, sir? Do you need help finding your floor?"

"What?" said Serge as his gaze met the curious glance of a kitchen worker pushing a large cart with a dozen shelves.

"Well, it's just I've been delivering meals for the past ten minutes and you're still in the elevator. Do you need help finding a floor?"

"Intensive care," Serge muttered.

"Oh, that's the fifth floor. Here, I'll push the button. With any luck it'll be our next stop."

* * *

Playing a game of tug-of-war with Robin with a piece of yarn he had found in his jeans pocket, Coop and Robin both looked up as they heard Danny come into the living room.

Flopping himself onto the sofa with a sigh, Danny gave Coop a look of resignation. "Well, I scoured that damn book and I can't find it anywhere."

"Can't find what, Danny?"

"That thing I'm supposed to warn you about. I know there's something else I'm supposed to tell you, but I can't remember!" Groaning in frustration, Danny banged a balled up fist into his lap.

"Well, now that you're back, there's something worrying me, Danny. Is it possible to go crazy in this place? I mean, assuming I've not already lost it that is."

"What on earth are you talking about, Coop? I told you already you're not crazy or losing it. Whether you think it's a good thing or not, I'm real and here talking to you!" Danny let out an annoyed groan. He had thought this was one hurdle he and Coop had jumped over.

"Well, what happened while you were in the kitchen might change your mind," Coop mumbled as Robin leapt onto his lap. "I could of sworn I felt Jimmy holding my hand. Like he was right here in the room with me. Scared the shit out of me for a moment."

"Hmm, interesting," Danny murmured, tapping his chin with his forefinger.

"Oh wait, that's it! That's what I'm supposed to tell you!" Danny declared in an excited voice that caused Robin to stand up.

"Tell me what?" Coop asked, not bothering to hide the impatience in his voice.

"About the sensations and side trips."

"The WHAT?"

"Coop, remember how I told you you're in this place because you're not awake on Earth?" Danny inquired, resting his feet on Coop's coffee table.

Clutching Robin, Coop's eyes narrowed as he tried to remember. "Uh, yeah, I think so. Why?"

"Well, basically, you're going to get sensations from Earth now and then. I think that's what that light thing in the kitchen and this latest thing with Jimmy were. You're sensing things going on around you on Earth."

"So, you're trying to tell me, wherever the hell I am down there, Jimmy was beside me and holding my hand? Please forgive me that I find that hard to believe, Danny," Coop answered quietly. His memories of Jimmy tending to his wounds in the patrol car after he had been shot were a blur. Coop's last clear image of Jimmy was Jimmy turning away from him, casting him aside like a leper.

Danny sighed as he realized what Coop did remember about the night previous was fragmented and jumbled.

"Coop, I saw everything that happened. Before and after you and Jimmy argued. And the Boss has been giving me periodic image updates. Mind me setting the record straight for you on what's been happening with Jimmy? This is stuff I'm allowed to share with you. Heck, I think should've done it right from the start, but I'm new to this. I mean, I tried to do it, but you sort of weren't listening to me then. I'm sorry, I should have been more persistent."

Coop sighed as he began rocking the chair back and forth. "Well Danny, I'm listening now."

"Okay," Danny began, cracking his knuckles as he composed his words. "Well, Jimmy's been regretting what he said to you even before you drove away from the police station. Owen Murphy said something to him that scared him and, well, you know what Jimmy's like when he's nervous or emotional. His mouth was about twenty steps ahead of his brain in this instance."

"That last bit is true enough," Coop muttered. Coop vaguely remembered Jimmy shouting out to him as he had steered the patrol car out of the parking lot.

"Anyway, after you radioed out being shot, Jimmy begged you to hold on and he about fainted when you told him not to forget that you guys were the lucky ones. He begged you to hold after he got to the bridge, even after that Murphy fellow tried to pull him off you. That's about when you decided to run from the gates, because you couldn't stand to leave Jimmy alone. You heard him calling out to you. Anyway, Jimmy has been at the hospital this whole time. Right now, he's staring out a window at Penn General and hoping you know that you guys  _are_ the lucky ones. He's also beating himself up that he broke that promise you guys made a couple weekends back. That promise is the silver lining you keep trying to ricochet out of your mind." Finishing in a rush, Danny placed a cushion on the armrest of the sofa and laid his gangly frame down.

Coop shook his head in disbelief as he said, "Two weeks ago Danny I was technically unconscious in the den for most of the weekend. I hate to say Captain was right, but whatever bug I caught was bad and I did need those four days off. Jimmy was nowhere near here."

Propping himself up on one elbow, Danny shot Coop a patronizing grin, glad to have the upper hand at last.

"Technically, you're a terrible liar, Coop."


	23. Exposed

"What'd you just say to me, Danny?" Coop asked in a low, cold voice.

The ice in Coop's words seeped to Danny's core. But he didn't bat an eye as he sat up and reached for the copy of _Newsweek_ he had previously abandoned on the coffee table. As he began leafing through the pages, he gave Coop a nonchalant shrug. "You heard me right."

"Why you little…" Coop growled as he began to get up from his seat to knock some sense through Danny's thick skull. The brush of Robin's rough fur against his bare forearms gave him pause.

Danny didn't raise his head as Coop remained seated. "Amazing, isn't it? I reason with you calmly and your first instinct is to bash my head in. That bag of bones doesn't have to say a word, but he actually makes you think before you do something."

Taking a deep breath as he placed Robin on the ottoman, Coop gave Danny a hard glare. "I wish you and Jimmy would quit that bag of bones bullshit with me!" he snarled in a low voice. "You guys make it sound like I don't take care of him! It's not my fault he eats a ton and never gains an ounce!"

"Oh?" remarked Danny in feigned surprise as he raised his head and rested _Newsweek_ on his lap. "When did Jimmy say that?"

"A couple weekends ago. What's it to you?"

"Oh, it means a lot to me," said Danny. "If you'd calm down and think for half a second you might realize why."

"You sure about that, oh Danny Boy?" mocked Coop, getting up and looming over Danny.

"As sure as I am that you're Irish and more fond of that bag of bones than you want people to know," said Danny evenly. Getting to his own feet, he rolled up the copy of _Newsweek._

Coop grunted and shook his head in reply.

Sighing, Danny began taking off his tie. "Look, Coop, I know you're steamed at me. But I said what I said for a reason. Take your pal over there with you and cool down for a bit. Once you're in a calm frame of mind I promise things will be a lot clearer for you."

"They will, huh?" asked Coop in dry, sarcastic voice as he scooped Robin into one arm. "And just what are you gonna do in the meantime?"

"Finish that copy of _Gone with the Wind_ on the table. That was my copy, if I remember right. The one you borrowed after you threw your copy into the Schuylkill after the Phillies lost to the Yankees at that game you treated me to. You know, the book you needed to finish some huge paper. You never did return this, by the way," said Danny, waving the book in Coop's face as he picked it up.

"Whatever," Coop mumbled as he spun on his heel and disappeared down the hall to the den.

"I'll take that as a yes that you do remember, then," Danny murmured. He jumped as he heard a door down the hall slam and shake the small house.

* * *

"Excuse me, sir?" said the white-clothed kitchen worker. He tapped the bare skin beneath one rolled up sleeve on Sarge's arm.

"Huh?" mumbled Sarge, the kitchen worker's nudging dragging him out of his stupor.

"We're at the fifth floor. The entrance to Intensive Care is about halfway down the hallway on the right. You can't miss it," said the kitchen worker, holding the "door open" button with a shaky pointer finger.

"Thanks," replied Sarge in a tired voice as he shuffled out of the elevator and began working his way down the long corridor.

* * *

"So, Joey dear, how is your father these days?" asked Donna after several seconds of awkward silence had passed between her and Joe.

Joe looked down at the floor as he felt colour spread across his face. "Well, the first few years after Mom died were pretty rough. But Dad's doing good now. Been a lot happier since Uncle Alex moved in."

Donna tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You have an Uncle Alex? I don't seem to remember him being with your other aunts and uncles those last few weeks."

"Nah, you wouldn't. He wasn't around Philly in those days," Joe mumbled, staring at his nightstick as thoughts he had long buried popped up.

* * *

_Creeping out from his small bedroom and into the den to ask his father for help with an algebra problem, fifteen-year-old Joey had fled to the balcony of their cramped Brewerytown apartment. Though fifteen, shy Joey's knowledge of romance was scant. But Joey knew enough to realize that what he had briefly seen his father and Uncle Alex doing in front of the television set wasn't the usual state of affairs between roommates.  
_

* * *

The fury of nurses and orderlies dashing around him was sharp contrast from the silence in the elevator. Sarge felt relief when he spotted Joe a short distance up the corridor.

Before Donna could open her mouth to find out more about Uncle Alex, she and Joe were started by the sound of a clearing throat.

"Oh, hi, sir," said Joe, his face crimson as Sarge filled his vision.

"Is there something I can help you with?" asked Donna gently, shooting Joe a questioning glance.

"I'm looking for my son's room," Sarge mumbled, wavering on his feet as he stared at the nurse and Joe clenching hands.

"Cooper's father," Joe mouthed to Donna.

"Oh, of course! It's room three, just up this way! Let me just tell your wife that you're here," said Donna, heading for the door that stood ajar.

As Donna left their earshot, Sarge glowered at Joe. A look of disgust was evident across his face. "You wear the badge a week and think you can start having your pick of the women, huh?" he demanded in a fierce whisper. "You sicken me!"

"It's—not like that at all, sir!" Joe stammered, his hands shaking. "Donna's just an old family friend; she looked after my mom when she was sick here. I didn't know she worked on this floor. Honest, sir!"

Having interrogated hundreds of suspects over the years, Sarge knew the confused look the boy flashed him was genuine. Ducking his head, he slunk a few feet away from Joe in stunned embarrassment.

* * *

Momentarily satisfied that the slammed door had reminded Danny just who was in charge, Coop's cocky grin twisted into a pained scowl as Robin clawed his way out of his arms in a panic and ran to hide underneath the sofa.

"Fuck!" Coop hissed under his breath as he took a seat by his desk. Glancing at his stinging arms as he leaned the chair backwards, he almost fainted and went over backwards when he saw no blood or scratches marking his skin.

Sighing and glancing around the paneled, wooden room, Coop realized it was the first time in two weeks he had spent any time at all in the room that had formally been his sanctuary. The room attracted the heavy summer heat like a magnet and the ceiling fan overhead had proven no match.

"Of all the times to get sick, this was one hell of a place to get laid up with a 103° fever," he said aloud, glancing at the sofa that had become stiffened with his sweat over those three days. "Thank God Jimmy was here and knew what to do."

As Jimmy's name passed through his lips, the images of the week and weekend not so long past began flickering before his eyes like a blurry projector suddenly coming into focus.

* * *

Staring out at the parking lot at the patrol car violating more than a few rules of the road, Jimmy didn't hear the light rapping on the door from Donna as he scuffed one shoe along the dull glazed white wall. If only there was such a thing as time travel, he vowed he would turn back the clock and never let fear scare him away from the solemn vow he had made only two short weeks before.

* * *

" _Fuck! Cover your god damned mouth when you hack like that!" Jimmy had cried. He had leaned as far away from Coop as possible. He had winced as his hand came into contact with the burning metal of his seatbelt. Though it was 10 pm, the balmy heat of Wednesday, July 10, 1968 had proved to be another night for the record books. Being inside the station doing paperwork while fans blew around them had been a small slice of paradise.  
_

" _Shut up, Jimmy," Coop muttered, spitting thick green phlegm into a tissue. Crumbling the tissue and shoving the wad into the shirt pocket beneath his badge, he leaned over the steering wheel to catch his breath. Wiping his sweaty forehead with his hand,he only succeeded in smearing the perspiration._

" _Are you getting sick or something?" Jimmy asked as Coop began to put the car into gear._

" _Nah. The bar was just real smokey last night and I'm paying for it now."_

" _Christ, you went there again!? That's the third time since Saturday! You promised me you'd cut back on the drinking!" whispered Jimmy, looking around to make sure no one would overhear his words. Satisfied they were safe, he shot Coop a glare as the cruiser maneuvered out of the parking lot. He felt relief as cool air began pouring through the open windows as they sped away from the station._

" _For Christ's sake, Jimmy! Look, I gave almost six years of my life to the army and baseball. If I wanna have a bit of fun now, I'm gonna have a bit of fun!" Coop mumbled after a moment's pause, shooting a dirty look out of the corner of his eye as he tried to focus on the road ahead.  
_

_Jesus, what a way to start off a double shift! Jimmy thought as he and Coop headed into North Philly. Ever since his son's baptism the previous weekend, Coop had been moody and irritable. At least, more so than normal. Hell, Coop had even cancelled their Tuesday night poker game at the last minute with no good explanation._

_All things considered, I'm doing my god damned best to make things work for everyone, Coop. Just what the hell is eating you? wondered Jimmy as he and Coop drove on in silence._

* * *

" _Coop, it's almost 9 pm! Get away from that desk and come punch-out with me!"_

_Looking up from the mound of paperwork he was scribbling across, Coop shook his head at Jimmy. "I promised the captain I'd help the desk sergeants catch up on some paperwork. I've already done twenty-four hours; another twelve won't kill me. Besides, I need the extra money. There's always bills to pay, ya know."_

" _Hell, if you'd quit going to that hellhole all the time maybe you wouldn't be in this situation! Ever think of that, Coop? And the hell, doing another twelve hours when we start tomorrow at 10 am? You're in no shape to do that! You went through half a bottle of cough syrup tonight! You belong asleep in bed," said Jimmy, his blue eyes flashing anxiously. Coop begging to stop at a drug store for the cough syrup had almost caused him to faint; the one time in the distant past he had offered Coop some aspirin for a splitting headache had resulted in the pill bottle being thrown square in his face.  
_

" _I told ya, Ma, it's just allergies," mumbled Coop in an annoyed voice. With a groan, he began rubbing his temples and wiping sweat away from his forehead. "Would you quit bugging me about some little cough that is gonna run its course? Besides, don't ya got that trip to the Jersey Shore with your_ wife _and_ kids _to prep for?"_

" _Fine, whatever you say. I'm outta here. One of us needs to have a clear head tomorrow," Jimmy muttered. He rubbed his swollen eyes; he was too tired to chance another argument and explain his supposed vacation was not going to be what Coop assumed it to be.  
_

* * *

" _COOPER!"_

" _Huh?" Coop rasped, lifting his head off the pile of papers he had collapsed over. His throat stung like crazy and he wondered why the furnace was going full-blast in July. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, Captain Alfred Stinson's face came into focus. He winced as pain from where Stinson had been shaking his shoulder began to radiate down his arm._

_Stinson stared at Coop, fighting temptation to wipe off the ink that was splotched across the officer's cheek as he ran a hand through his thinning crown of hair. "Look, Cooper, I appreciate your loyalty to the force. Hell, you and Bruno are by far the best team I've had in years. But I've gotta say that working yourself into a coma won't help us much."_

_Coop flushed. "Sorry, Captain. I was just resting my eyes for a minute..." he said before a sharp cough invaded his chest. His lungs drained of all air, his chest heaved as he sputtered for breath between coughs._

_As the coughing fit subsided, Coop shot Stinson a sheepish grin as he tried regain control of his breathing. "Touch of allergies. That's all."_

_Startled from the harsh coughing he had heard, Stinson took a step away from the desk. "Cooper, you might be a chip off the old block, but don't play that game with me. I wasn't born yesterday; you look and sound like shit! First thing tomorrow, I want you to see a doctor. As far as I'm concerned, you're off until at least Monday. When you come back, you will give me a note proving you saw a doc. In the meantime, we'll figure something out for your shifts. Now, don't you go and start arguing with me! We're short-staffed as it is! You won't help that by getting the rest of us sick!"_

_Still struggling to catch his breath, Coop pleaded, "I swear, Captain, it's just a bit of a cold..."_

_But Coop's arguments did nothing to persuade Stinson. Sighing, Stinson jerked his thumb in the direction of the locker room. "Cooper, just get the hell outta here already!"  
_

* * *

_"Bronchitis! You've got to be pulling my leg!" Coop croaked, reaching for the crumbled white T-shirt the doctor had made him remove in order to examine his chest. "I still think this is just a bit of a cold or some allergies that'll clear up on their own!"  
_

_Putting his stethoscope around his neck, the stocky doctor with the thick Scottish accent gave Coop a cool, appraising look. "I'm mostly certainly not bollocking about what is wrong with you, Sean. If you don't take the medicine I've prescribed and rest over the weekend you will most certainly be in hospital with pneumonia by Monday. I can assure you of that."_

_"Fine, whatever," Coop mumbled, his swollen vocal cords wincing in pain. "But if I take it easy and take the pills I'll be back on the job by Monday, right?"_

_The doctor paused. "It's a possibility. But I wouldn't bet me house on it. I'm conflicted enough about sending you home as it is. If your fever were any higher I'd say you had pneumonia and I'd be sending you down to Penn General to check-in." A dry smile came to the doctor's lips. "I must say this is the opposite of what I usually encounter, Sean. Most people are begging me to keep them home from work far longer than what is required."  
_

* * *

" _What do you mean Coop ain't coming in?" Jimmy asked McCree, trying to discern if what McCree was telling him was fact or fiction._

_McCree offered Jimmy a sour smile and crossed arms as he rested his feet atop his untidy desk. "Captain says he's sick. Supposedly. Guess the playboy couldn't handle today's hangover and is leaving his work to the rest of us while he takes a long weekend. You might as well train one of the new rookies, Jimmy. Murphy and Kelly can handle your patrol today."_

* * *

_On his break, Jimmy rang Coop's house from a pay phone outside the McDonald's he and the rookie were grabbing cheeseburgers at to see if that evening's poker game was cancelled. When Coop's phone rang off the hook before disconnecting three times in a row, Jimmy began to worry._

* * *

" _Fuck, Pop! Get it through your thick skull I ain't ever talking to you again!" Coop whispered as loud as his sore throat would let him. The bells boring through his head, he pulled the pillow he was resting on around his ears in a vain attempt to keep his head from throbbing even more._

_As the phone at last quit ringing, his body was jerked upright as another coughing fit invaded his chest. When it was over and he had caught his breath, he rested on one elbow as he rubbed a thick lair of Vicks over his soaked chest._

_Placing the jar of Vicks back onto the coffee table, Coop eyed the bottles of antibiotics, aspirin, and cough syrup with disdain. Just his luck to get sick and be alone with his thoughts when all he had wanted to do was work off the anxiety and turmoil his encounter with Eileen had thrust him into._

_Sitting up slowly,he poured_ _himself a glass of lukewarm water from the pitcher he had made before collapsing onto the couch. Coop was relieved to be home. The waiting room at the doctor's office he hadn't been to since he was a teenager had been crowded with croupy babies and feverish adults battling summer flu. Afterwards, the pharmacy at the drug store up the road had taken forever to fill his prescription._

_Draining the glass, he winced as each swallow felt like a fresh slash with a razor. Slamming the empty glass onto the table, he pulled the small table fan and the side table it rested on as close to his head as was possible. The cellar would have been much more comfortable than being upstairs. However, the coughing fit induced by his first trip up the stairs had quickly changed his mind about holing up for the weekend down there._

_Easing himself back onto the pillow, the heat hit him and Coop kicked the white sheet covering his body off. His teeth chattered as a brief spasm of chill overtook his body. Though he only wore a pair of light cotton boxers, he quickly began to feel hot once more. Robin laid above him on top of the sofa, maintaining a quiet watch over the room and looking at Coop with weary concern._

_Coop gave the cat a quick look. "Remind me in the future, Slugger, to never say things are so bad, that they can't possibly get any worse." With a sigh, Coop closed his eyes as he let the cough syrup and fatigue win the battle they had been waging with his body for the past fifty-four hours._

* * *

_Pulling up to the front of Coop's small white house, Jimmy carefully pulled behind Coop's T-Bird._

_Going on shift that morning so soon after doing a double had been exhausting and Jimmy's first thought when it had ended had been to go straight home and enjoy being able to sleep in the master bedroom for a change whilst Eileen and the kids were away. But Coop's uncharacteristic absence that day had jarred Jimmy and he knew seeing Coop with his own eyes was the only thing that would ease his mind._


	24. A Different Kind of Saturday

_Emerging from his parked car, Jimmy stepped out onto Coop's driveway. Sweat already forming on his brow from the heat, he ripped open the buttons of his uniform shirt and pulled it off. Wringing out the sodden heap, he flung his shirt back into his car, electing to keep his perspiration soaked T-shirt on.  
_

_Fanning his face with one hand, he made the short walk towards Coop's front door. Reaching the step, he stumbled against the full milk bottle sitting in the middle of the concrete step. With a yelp, he managed to right himself before crashing headfirst onto the ground. The heavy, glass bottle cracked open as it tumbled onto its side and seeped its rancid contents over his shoes.  
_

_"Fuck, Coop! When the hell are you going to get a new milkbox?" Jimmy yelled when the pungent smell of sour milk hit his nose. Reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief, he pinched his nose shut and began wiping rotten curds from the formerly polished leather.  
_

* * *

_Robin's ears had perked and he prepared to hide when he heard yelling coming from outside the house. But when he recognized the voice as Jimmy's cursing, he relaxed as he hopped off the couch and headed for the open doorway._

* * *

_Wiping the last few streaks of milk from his shoes, Jimmy threw his ruined cloth to one side. He wondered if Coop were even at home. The T-Bird sitting in the driveway was no surefire answer when his friend's favourite bar was a short walk up the road. But he just couldn't fathom his workaholic partner lying to the captain in order to snag a few days off of work. Over the past year, Jimmy had witnessed the situation to be quite the opposite, with Coop having to be ordered by the captain to use up his allocated vacation days.  
_

_Cramming one hand into his pocket, he rang the doorbell and waited. Getting no response, he tried the doorknob and was not surprised when the door opened easily._

_Jimmy slammed the door behind him and locked it. "Dumb bastard's gonna get robbed one of these days!" he muttered, flicking on the hallway light. After his eyes adjusted, he spotted Robin a short distance up the hall. "Robin, you old bag of bones! Where's Coop at?"_

_His mouth opening into a yawn, Robin gave Jimmy a cock of his head before turning around and heading for the den._

_Jimmy followed the scrawny cat, but had doubts Coop would be on the main floor of his air conditionerless house on such a hot night. A loud coughing fit made him stop walking._

_Well, McCree's theory is bullshit! he thought, angry that he had even entertained McCree's notion that Coop had booked off sick under false pretenses._ I should've known my partner better than that! _He felt his muscles constrict as another cough erupted from the den._

_He worked his way into the den and turned on the ceiling light. The bright glare hitting his eyes, he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight before him: Coop was sprawled over the sofa on his back, a white sheet entangled between his legs. Though the ceiling and table fans ran at full speed, he was flushed and covered in perspiration. Each harsh wheezy breath jerked Coop's chest upward and defined its tight muscles._

_Atop the couch, Robin had resumed his post and stared wearily at Jimmy.  
_

_His gaze slipping to Coop's bare stomach, muscular and defined from thousands of situps, Jimmy felt his pulse begin to race. His mouth going dry, he darted out of the room. Swallowing, he stared at the floor. When he and Coop were occupied with busting scumbags and reams of paperwork, it was almost easy to forget what was blossoming between them. But then all it would take was an accidental brush of hands or a cocky grin from his partner to remind him that his chance to walk away from the affair had evaporated a long time ago._

_For Christ's sake, get a hold of yourself! he thought, pressing himself against the wall of the hallway._ You're not sixteen anymore and this isn't the football locker room! You don't have the option to walk away from this like you did the team! He's your best friend and you're going to make sure he's okay!

_Hoping he appeared calm and collected, he stuck his head back into the den. "Coop?" he called._

_Coop let out a loud cough in reply before resuming his wheezy breathing._

So, it's finally happened. The poor bastard got so worn out he just collapsed. _Jimmy willed himself step back into the den._ But I can't just leave Coop alone like this; he looks awful!

_Shifting his eyes to the floor and almost bumping into the coffee table, he put one trembling hand on his partner's forehead before before the burning fire emanating from the flesh beneath made his arm draw back.  
_

_Wondering what to next, Jimmy plopped himself onto the chair by the desk. The smell of Vicks in the small room made him want to gag and he wondered why Coop hadn't bothered to open the window._

_His stomach growling, Robin got up and leaped over Coop, landing at Jimmy's feet._

_"What do you want, Bonebag?" Jimmy asked, unable to hide his irritation as Robin looked up at him expectantly._

_Shooting him a look similar to one dealing with an idiot unable to grasp a simple concept, Robin headed for the kitchen._

_"Christ!" said Jimmy as it dawned on him Robin was starving._ Just how long has Coop been out cold?

* * *

_As Robin scarfed down his kibble, Jimmy made his way back into the den. His stomach clenched as Coop let out another sharp cough and rolled over onto his side with a groan. He couldn't remember that last time he had seen anyone look so sick.  
_

_Fuck, just what did Eileen do when Adam was sick like this? his thoughts racing when he spotted the medicine bottles on the table._ She did cool towels to keep his fever down. But what was the trick she did with his feet? Where she made him wear his socks all night? Dammit! Why can't I remember these things when I need to know them?! _  
_

 _Then he sighed._ Well, at least I can do the towels and get that damned window open! It's not like I can phone Eileen in Ocean City and get her advice about this!

* * *

_Coming back into the den with a cool wet washcloth and a towel, Jimmy laid the towel across Coop's torso and draped the washcloth over his forehead. He felt relief when his partner didn't stir from his sound slumber. After their argument the night previous, he felt nervous being at Coop's despite their scheduled poker game not being officially scrapped.  
_

_Opening the window at the other end of the room as wide as it would go, Jimmy breathed in some fresh night air. After the stuffiness that had previously enveloped him, the outside air felt cool and was a welcome relief from the odor of Vicks. At least when Adam had been so sick that one time with the flu, Eileen had put Vicks on Adam's feet and then covered them up his socks to entrap the smell.  
_

_Spotting Coop's sweat stiffened work socks lay abandoned beside the couch, Jimmy felt relief at finally remembering Eileen's old wives' tale.  
_

* * *

_"Alright, hope this works!"he said quietly. He inched back as he finished tugging the last black sock over Coop's foot. Rubbing traces of Vicks from his hands off onto his work pants, Jimmy untucked his shirt. He found himself wandering back over to the chair beside the desk. He knew there was no way he could justify to himself it was okay to head home and he tried to come up with some way to pass the rest of the night. He decided against turning the television on; he didn't want to chance waking Coop when there would be nothing good on so late at night. Spotting some books piled on the corner of the coffee table, he began to examine them.  
_

Macbeth _was quickly tossed back; despite Coop's best efforts, Shakespeare remained a foreign language to Jimmy without Coop's thorough explanations_ _._ A Tale of Two Cities _was also rejected; he had hated it what little he had forced himself to read in tenth grade. That left_ Catcher in the Rye _, a book he remembered being banned from his Catholic high school for containing profanity and immoral acts. Glad for the distraction, he rested his feet on the coffee table and began leafing past the introduction._

* * *

_Coop was unsure how long he'd been entrapped in that realm between sound sleep and groggy alertness when he finally managed to force his eyes open. With a wince, he groaned as the den came into focus and he spotted dark sky through the window.  
_

_Great! I wasted a whole day unconscious on my back! That's really going to help me sort out the shit that's been going on! he thought, clenching a fist._

_Realizing his long weekend alone had scarcely begun, Coop let out a long sigh. His throat seared in protest from the assault._ Well, at least things really can't get any worse now. That medicine must be doing something, I guess; I don't feel like coughing as much and it feels like someone finally turned off the fiery furnaces of hell...what the?! His _eyes widened as he noticed a damp white towel draped across his chest and felt a lukewarm washcloth spread across his forehead. How the hell did these get here? he wondered in confusion, his head drawn in the direction of some heavy breathing._

 _He sat bolt upright and the washcloth slipped from his forehead. Jimmy was dozed off mere feet away!_ _"Jimmy?!" he said in raspy astonishment, his eyebrows almost shooting past his hairline._

_"Mm-hmm?" Jimmy muttered thickly, rubbing one eye. Looking groggily towards where he thought the voice had come from, he jolted to alertness when he saw his partner's fiery eyes staring back into his own. "Coop! You're awake!"_

_"Nah, I'm just a figment of your imagination… course I'm awake!" Coop croaked. "What are you doing here?"_

_Jimmy tossed the book resting on his lap onto the coffee table and began to shake the pins and needles out of his hands. "Well, you never told me anything about tonight's poker game being off, so I'm here to play. Let's get started so I can start winning some money!"  
_

_"Very funny!" Coop replied in a dry whisper one had to strain to hear. "Why do I always gotta be the one to plan the details of everything we do, huh? You could've grown some balls for once and phoned me to see what was up!"  
_

_Jimmy glared. "Coop, let's get one thing straight here: I was getting laid while you were still looking up girls' skirts! And I did call you! But your damned phone just kept ringing off the hook!"  
_

_Coop flushed as he came to grips with Jimmy being responsible for the earlier phone calls_ _He turned himself around so he rested against the back of the couch, his feet on the floor. "I must've been out 'cos I didn't hear it." Coop pausde to take a breath. He dug his feet into the floor to keep himself steady and tried to make the words speeding around in his brain connect. "But let's forget about that bullshit! What's the real reason you're doing here, Jimmy? Did McCree send you over here to make sure me being off today was legit? Was he hoping for some sort of proof he'd finally have something to get me in real trouble over?"  
_

_Jimmy spun the seat around to face Coop, his face crumpled with anger. "Are you fucking delirious or something? I know you hate McCree, Coop, but he'd never think you were unable to work unless it was something legit_ _!" he said, lying through his teeth for the moment._

_Unable to contain his boiling anger, Jimmy couldn't help but lose his normal calm veneer and slam a fist into the coffee table. He made himself calm down when he saw Coop wince and Robin almost jump out of his skin."And let's get another thing straight here: I'm your partner and I'd never do anything to screw you over! Use your fucking head just for once, Coop! Of course I know you're not one of those wusses who calls in sick each time they've got a bit of a cold! Stinson practically had to throw you out of the station last year to finish your vacation time because you wanted to keep working! So when you didn't come in today I knew it had to be for a good fucking reason!"  
_

_Jimmy took a deep breath to recover from his tirade. "But really, that stung, man. Great to know you think I'd stab you in the back like that. So much for taking bullets for each other, huh?" Disgusted, Jimmy began to pick at the skin on his thumb.  
_

_The weight of what his words had inferred hit Coop like a sucker punch to the stomach and lucidity suddenly came to him. "Jimmy," he managed to get out. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that." Afraid of falling over, he put the full weight of his back against the sofa and threw his head backwards. "I wasn't thinking clear. Maybe it's time you do what I asked you to a month back: dump me off at one of those places where they can lock me up and try to shock me sane," he muttered, lowering his head to study the tiny scars that still remained on his hands from several bug bites in Vietnam's balmy jungles._

_Jimmy rubbed his eyes in frustration. "Fuck, not this crap again! How many times do I gotta tell you that you ain't crazy? It's getting really old having to tell you this week after week!"_

_Seeing Coop's fists ball up, Jimmy was careful in his next choice of words. "Look, I get that the war must've fucked you up somehow for you to keep thinking like you do, Coop. But telling me nothing ain't helping me help you work through it!"  
_

_Trying to brush away the image of the ugly horsefly that had given him one of his more prominent scars during a day spent crawling on his belly through mud intermingled with the blood of his fellow soldiers, Coop shook his head. "How many times do I gotta tell you Jimmy that friends who want to stay friends don't discuss religion or politics? And you know damned well in my case you gotta add 'Nam to that!"_

_Jimmy sighed. "Fine. I don't wanna fight with you. And I'm bright enough to figure out you're feeling so bad you weren't thinking straight a few minutes ago. So I'll forget everything you said before and I'll drop the other stuff for tonight, alright?''  
_

_Glad all was forgiven, Coop rose his head so he could focus on Jimmy. He felt relief to have regained his wits. "So, you gonna tell me the real reason you came over here?" he croaked, closing his eyes to deal with stab of pain coming from his larynx._

_Jimmy gave him a shrug. "Simple. I came over to check up on you. You called in sick and I wanted to be sure things were okay with you because you've never pulled this sort of bullshit!"_

_Pleased with Jimmy's anxiety for once, Coop scowled. "Look, that ain't what happened. I didn't call in. Captain told me I've gotta stay off until at least Monday_. _All because I dozed off doing some paperwork and coughed a bit when he woke me up last night. He wouldn't quit yapping at me until I promised I'd take some time off and go see a doc." He rolled his eyes at the memory. "Christ, you'd think I'd the plague or something by the way he reacted!"_

_Jimmy took a moment to digest what Coop was telling him; based on last year's vacation drama where his partner and Stinson had loudly butted heads, he knew without a doubt the story being given to him was the true course of events._

_"Well, I think Stinson made the right call," said Jimmy quietly, forcing himself to not break eye contact. "How in the world could you've worked today when even I'm having trouble understanding you?" He wiped sweat off his forehead and gave his friend a glare. "Damn it, Coop! I told you it was a crazy idea to do that extra overtime! Why the hell can't you just listen to me sometimes?!"  
_

_Coop sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "Just give it a rest. Please? I already got a huge lecture about all this from the captain!"  
_

__"Fine," said Jimmy, surprised; he could count the number of times Coop had walked away from an argument on one hand._ _

_"Thanks," Coop rasped, grimacing as his throat rewarded him with a stab of pain._

_Spinning Coop's desk chair around, Jimmy tried to think of something else to talk about. "So, did the doc figure out what's wrong?"  
_

_"Bronchitis." Coop sneered and tried to fight off the urge to cough. "Great thing to get with a high fever in the middle of a heat wave, huh? I've been so hot it's no wonder I was making no sense when I first woke up! Anyways, the doc's theory is I'm rundown and that's why I got sick in the middle of July of all times!"  
_

_"Run down?"_

_"Yeah. Ya know, working too many hours, not sleeping enough, and not eating properly. All that bullshit, basically. Anyways, the stupid doc agreed with Captain and said I've gotta rest up for the weekend and take penicillin for a week."  
_

_"Hell!" Jimmy's face twisted. "I hate those things! Remember that tonsillitis I got? You try swallowing those huge pills with a raw throat; hurts like a son of a bitch!_

_"So I'm learning," Coop replied sourly. "That doc didn't know what he was talking about _. Can you believe he told me I'd end up in the hospital if I didn't do what he said? Pompous, self-righteous jackass if I ever met one!_ _"__

_"Coop, he's a doc_ _. He must know_ something _if he's made it to where he is!"  
_

_Coop tried to snort, but had to be content glaring at Jimmy when his sore throat wouldn't allow it. "Bullshit! I would've been fine! Anyways, it ain't_ _like I'm about to keel over so would you quit looking so worried-" his voice ceased as another coughing fit began to erupt from mouth. He winced as his diaphragm spasmed and stung.  
_

_Jimmy grimaced as he heard Coop wheeze and gasp for breath. Yanking Coop froward, he gave two sharp blows between his partner's shoulder blades._

_With a loud cough, a dark green wad of mucus flew out of Coop's mouth and onto his outstretched hand. He took a hesitant breath and was relieved to find his airway clear. He crumbled the sticky phlegm that had flown into his hand with distaste._ _"You responsible for this?" he asked, using the towel that had drifted down to his stomach to clean off his hand.  
_

_"I am."  
_

_"What for?"_

_Absently, Jimmy popped his neck. "'Oh, I dunno. Maybe 'cos it was as hot as hell in here and you were burning up even worese? Why ain't you in bed or down in the cellar where it's cooler?"  
_

_Coop groaned; Jimmy's anxiety had resurfaced full force. "Because I didn't wanna keep making trips upstairs for stuff every five minutes and my room's always the hottest one in the house!"  
_

_"What about your pills? Did you take those or any aspirin today?"_

_"Fuck, Jimmy! Yes, I took my medicine today! I even felt adventurous and got some sleep for a change, too!" Coop snapped. He shot Jimmy an impatient glare. "Christ, you're worst than my ma is about this sort of shit! I can look after myself just fine!"  
_

_Jimmy looked down._

_Coop wanted to smack himself as he caught the stung look Jimmy was trying to avert from him. After all the times he'd been a complete asshole to his partner, Jimmy had still gone out of his way to look in on him. "Look, Jimmy, I'm sorry. Please forget what I just said. I really do appreciate you stopping by and looking out for me. But look, head home now. Don't worry any more about me, alright? I promise I'll be fine."  
_

_Jimmy looked up, Coop's final croaked words solidifying a decision. "I'll be fine," he mocked. "Bullshit! Look, this is what is gonna happen here: I'm staying over for the weekend. We both know damned well how sick you really are. Like it or not, you ain't getting off that couch anytime soon, so you're gonna need someone around for the next few days to make sure things around here are taken care of. Hell, even that cat of yours was half starved when I got here!" he remarked, beginning to undo his belt.  
_

_"But you can't stay here when you're not gonna be around! You head to Ocean City in the morning! Remember, that vacation Eileen's been going on about for weeks now?"  
_

_Jimmy sighed as he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his pants, leaving them in a pile at his feet. "There's been a change of plans. I'm not going."_

_"What?! Why not?"_

_"Turns out I gotta now be back at work Monday morning or we'll be fucked for staffing again. They told me on Thursday, but you didn't hear it because you were almost late again! Anyways, they can only let me have Saturday and Sunday off. Eileen's pissed as hell and told me not to bother joining her and the kids," said Jimmy. "So I'm spending the weekend with you instead."  
_

_"But didn't ya put that vacation request in months ago?"_

_"Sure I did. But so did every other guy with kids in school; July and August is when all of us want to head on vacation. But it goes by seniority; a guy with ten or fifteen years on the force gets priority over someone with five. You of all people should know that, Coop. You're the son of a cop!"_

_"That's too bad," said Coop, his heart wincing at the mention of Sarge, but soaring at his unexpected reversal of fortune. "Sorry you're stuck being inside with me instead of working on a tan."_

_"Don't be stupid! We both know I'd rather spend time with you than listen to Eileen's nagging for days on end. Besides, the beach ain't my thing," admitted Jimmy, trying to keep out visions of the broad shoulders and toned biceps that stirred up the desires he tried to keep suppressed. But it was a futile effort with his broad shouldered, muscular partner sitting mere feet away.  
_

_"Why's that?"_

_"We can discuss it later," Jimmy mumbled, kicking his shoes and pants into a heap beneath the coffee table. He hoped to god Coop wouldn't spot what was beginning to happen below his waist.  
_

_"Alright," said Coop, trying to get to his feet before a sudden burst of dizziness made him fall back onto the couch._

_Jimmy stared at Coop wearily. "Where the hell do you think you're going?!"_

_Coop rolled his eyes as he tried to make a second attempt at standing. "Just relax, would ya? I gotta take a piss!"  
_

_Jimmy sighed and got up from his seat. "Fine. I'll help you over."_

_"You've got to be shitting me! Would you quit worrying so much about everything?!"_

_Jimmy glared and gave Coop a sharp poke. "Yeah, your balance is so good that's why you just about fell flat on your face! Quit being a stubborn prick and let me help you for once!"_

_With a jerk, Jimmy slugged Coop's arm around his shoulders and pulled him roughly upright. He threw an arm to encircle his friend's waist before Coop had a chance to react. Jimmy instinctively tightened his grip around Coop's waist when it became clear how unsteady the other man was on his feet._

_Jimmy remained silent until his partner stopped wobbling. "See, now do you get I know what I'm talking about here? After all you went through to get back here alive, the last thing I'm gonna do now is let you fall and crack your head open!"  
_

_Ambushed into stunned silence, Coop's mouth tightened as he and Jimmy began working their way out of the den._

* * *

_"There!" said Jimmy, lowering Coop back onto the sofa after a tiring journey of averted gazes that had made both men blush beet red. "Just lay down, alright? It's late and you need to rest. Don't bother trying to talk any more," ordered Jimmy, collapsing back onto his seat.  
_

_Staring up at the ceiling, Coop asked, "What time is it?"  
_

_Sighing at Coop's defiance, Jimmy checked his watch. "3 am."_

_Shifting his gaze to Jimmy, Coop managed one of his endearing, cocky smirks. "Then I don't need rest. I was out for over twelve hours! Hell, that's gotta be a world record!"_

_Jimmy groaned and pushed the medicine bottles towards his partner. "Here. Take your medicine and get to sleep!"_

_Coop's grin faded. "Fuck it, Jimmy. How many times do I gotta tell you that me asleep is an oxymoron?"  
_

_Jimmy looked blank until a bit of tenth grade English bobbled to the surface. He wished more than ever he could slay Coop's nighttime demons once and for all. "I didn't forget that, Coop. But you've gotta be realistic here! If you wanna get off the couch under your own steam any time soon you're gonna have to bite the bullet and rest! Get my point?"_

_With a reluctant sigh, Coop nodded._

_"So look, I'll go get you some fresh water so you can have a drink and take your pills. Oh, and so you don't got any other excuses, I fed your cat already and locked up for the night. I swear you're gonna get robbed one of these days if you don't quit doing that!"_

_Coop gestured at the modest furniture and small TV that filled the den. "Does it look like I got anything worth taking?"_

_Jimmy shrugged. "Still, why make it easy for someone who doesn't give a shit about what they're stealing?"_

_Spotting Robin asleep atop the sofa, Coop flashed Jimmy a quick smile. "I don't need to worry about any robbers when I got my fierce guard cat over here!"_

_"What, Robin? That bag of bones?" Jimmy choked as he tried to suppress his laughter by covering his mouth._

_"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Coop demanded in a fierce croak. throwing his pillow at Jimmy with all his might._

_Recovering from the sudden assault, Jimmy glared. "What are you so sore about? Ya know full well Robin's too damned bony looking to even scare a mouse away!"  
_

_"And that's my fault? Ya know how much I feed him!"_

_"Look," said Jimmy testily. "I'm too tired to get into an argument with you. I didn't mean anything by what I said. And I know for some reason that damned cat means a lot to you. So, I'm sorry," he mumbled, reaching down and putting Coop's pillow back on the couch._

_"Apology accepted," Coop muttered, glowering at Jimmy as he laid back down._

_"Good. I'll go grab ya some water and I'll quit yakking after that."_

_Coop sighed, still trying to grapple with why a jab about Robin had made him so angry. "It's alright. Even if we don't see eye to eye on much, I like talking to you, Jimmy."  
_

_"I know what you mean," said Jimmy. He couldn't remember the last time he and Eileen had had a conversation this long that hadn't degenerated into a shouting match._

_"Anyways, I'll be back in a minute. We both need to get some shuteye."_

* * *

_Coop shot Billy Simpson a smile as he began to row the boat across Mirror Lake, the endless blue sky reflected perfectly across the ripply water._

_Suddenly, the boat began to shake and he and Billy grabbed onto the sides for dear life._

* * *

_"Coop!" hissed Jimmy, shaking Coop by the foot. "Wake up!"_

_"Okay! Okay! I'm awake!" Coop mumbled, his eyes fluttering open. Feeling a fresh washcloth across his forehead, he asked, "Where's the fire?"_

_"Hey, you sound better!" exclaimed Jimmy. He let out a silent sigh of relief. His had spent his night on a makeshift bed on the floor of the den, his light sleep fractured each time another coughing fit had rattled itself through Coop's chest. He had found himself unable to relax until he knew his partner was breathing clearly or that the washcloth atop his forehead was cool._ _Knowing the wonder drugs were now accomplishing their mission, Jimmy's tension began to ease.  
_

_"Don't know what's wrong with your hearing, but I still sound like shit and you know it!" Coop mumbled, letting out a dry cough. "What'd you wake me up for?"_

_"'Simple. It's almost time for us to have breakfast. And don't forget you've got pills to take."_

_"I'm not hungry, so don't bother making me anything."_

_"Well, that's tough. Because every time I've been with you the past few days I've hardly seen you eat anything! So you're eating something now, like it or not! I think I can whip up some bacon and eggs. I'll go grab us a couple trays and we can eat in here."_

_"Fine," Coop muttered, throwing the washcloth on the coffee table before stretching and scratching his chest as he shakily got to his feet. Both he and Jimmy breathed sighs of relief to see Coop able to stand and walk under his own steam. "I'm gonna go feed the cat."  
_

_"Already done and he's snoring just behind ya there. Just watch some TV or something 'til I'm done," Jimmy shot back, disappearing towards the kitchen.  
_

_Hearing Jimmy begin to bang pots and pans in the kitchen, the smell of stale sweat intermingling with Vicks made Coop want to gag. He knew where his next stop would be.  
_

* * *

_After quick, cool shower and a change of underwear, Coop found himself feeling more alert. Reclaiming a seat on the sofa, he draped the neglected white sheet around himself like a shawl and hunched over his breakfast tray.  
_

_After swallowing down a hideous combination of medicine and water, Coop poked at his food with his fork; his legendary appetite had vanished the day Eileen had confronted him with her secret knowledge and it bothered him to know Jimmy had noticed it. But he now forced himself to eat a couple strips of bacon and a few mouthfuls of eggs when he felt Jimmy's watchful gaze upon him._ _  
_

_"Jimmy, why are we watching_ The Flintstones _?" asked Coop as Fred Flintstone screamed, "Yabba dabba do!"_

_Seated beside Coop in his own red boxers and white T-shirt, Jimmy looked up from his already polished plate and shrugged. "Uh, because we already missed the Road Runner cartoons?"_

_"Nah, that ain't a good enough answer," Coop mumbled, spreading food around his plate. "There's gotta be some logical reason we're watching this shit!"  
_

_"Come on, Coop, use your head: it's Saturday morning and nothing's on besides cartoons and the news. And I dunno about you, but I've heard enough about the elections and Sirhan Sirhan to last me a lifetime!"_

_Coop didn't say anything for a moment. Dreading to see what his buddies overseas were still going through_ _, he made a point of avoiding news programs.  
_

_"Okay, that makes sense," he said at last, pushing his tray away. Leaning back, his eyelids began to droop as he felt the cough syrup begin to kick in.  
_

_"Well, at least you ate a little bit." Jimmy sighed and began to pick up the plates as he studied his partner. Despite having slept away the previous day away, Coop's eyes were sunken and bruised with fatigue. And Jimmy was sure Coop's face had gotten thinner in the past week. He shook his head, wondering how in the world Coop had managed to work the past while when it was now evident how sick he had really been._

_Seeing Coop beginning to drift off, Jimmy shook his head to clear out his worry when he had sure indication the illness was beginning to clear up. "Look, Coop, I want you to just take it easy and get some rest. I'm just gonna head home to shave, shower, and get some clean clothes. I promise I'll be back within an hour. Think you'll be okay until I get back?"  
_

_Coop forced an eye open and gave Jimmy a weak grin. "Sheesh, you turning into my ma or something?"  
_

_"Nah, just making sure before I jump ship," Jimmy shot back, putting the plates on the coffee table and folding up the TV trays._

_"I promise I'll be fine! Quit worrying!"  
_

_"Alright, then either watch TV or get some sleep. I expect to find you on that couch when I come back!" said Jimmy, gathering up the dishes and heading out the door._

_"Alright, Ma," Coop muttered under his breath, reaching for the Vicks. But he let a small grin spread across his face to get such solid affirmation of how much he mattered to Jimmy.  
_

* * *

_Bratatatat! Bratatatat!_

_Machine gun bullets zooming overhead, Coop kept his chin to the muddy ground as he crawled inch by inch towards a grove of trees for cover. The blood rushed past his ears and he barely heard the bombs going off a short distance away._

_Letting out a sign of relief when the machine guns of the enemy stopped, his anxiety rocketed when his ears heard the soft snap of a twig ahead of him._

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

_His finger hit the trigger before his mind could even contemplate the move._

_A paper hat and black eyes flashed before Coop's like hot coals before their light burnt out forever and became hidden by the rush of blood gushing from the wound in the centre of the boy's forehead._

* * *

_"Coop, you okay?" asked Jimmy, poking his head back into the den around dinner time. Finding Coop sound asleep during his last check, he had given him a light kiss on the forehead before going into the kitchen and busying himself with a game of Solitaire._

_Hunched forward on the sofa, Coop petted Robin idly under the chin. The feline's rumbling throat began to break through the stupor that had enveloped him since waking up. The images of the dream began to fade and he felt relief caked blood covered his fingers no more.  
_

_Jimmy's hands went cold. Coop's limp, blank eyes stared through him and it was unnerving to witness. He cleared his throat softly when he couldn't stand the burnt out look his partner was giving him any longer. "Coop? You alright there?"_

_With a shake of his head, Coop blinked as Jimmy came into focus. The last bits of dark jungle vanished and life returned to his eyes. Embarrassed that Jimmy had caught him off guard, he picked Robin from his lap and put him on top of the couch. Trying in vain to brush cat hair off his undershorts, he gave up and sat back down. He attention switched to the cold sweat dripping down his chest. "I'm good," Coop muttered, the words grating against sandpaper as he tried to wipe the perspiration off with his hand._

_"Jesus, you're a terrible liar! You had one of those dreams again. Didn't you?"_

_Coop's eyes darted away from Jimmy to floor.  
_

_Jimmy took a seat beside Coop and gave him a tap on the shoulder. "Look, Coop...if you wanna talk about it..." he trailed off as Coop raised a hand like a crossing guard ordering traffic to grind to halt.  
_

_Lowering his hand, Coop gave Jimmy a nonchalant shrug. "What's the point? It won't change anything. Besides, I've told you about it all a million times."_

_"Bullshit! You never tell me anything!" Jimmy braced himself to dart a punch, but the cold stare Coop gave him unsettled him.  
_

_Shaking his head, a bitter half-smirk came to Coop's face. "There's certain things about me you're better off not knowing, Jimmy."  
_

_Jimmy let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. For seven months, he had known his friend's war experience hadn't been the great adventure Coop boasted about to other cops in the precinct. But, aside from the night they had first kissed and the rarewritten ramblings Coop had shared with him about sleep being torture, just what had happened in Vietnam remained shrouded in mists Coop refused to clear up._

_Rubbing his hand along his jeans, he said, "Well, forgive me for thinking we were out in the open about everything, Coop. I mean, we already share the same curse. What the hell could you tell me that's worse than that?"_

_Coop glared at Jimmy. "You still call knowing what most people never get to experience a curse? Trust me, there's way worse things than that!"_

_"Okay...m-maybe curse ain't the right word for it," Jimmy stammered, the blood draining from his face. "And fuck...I know whatever's started between us has gone too far to stop. But just what is it you want me to do about it? Forget I got three kids and just move in here with you? Do you have any idea of what could happen to us if_ anyone _even suspected there was something going on?"  
_

_Coop ducked his head. He had learned from his friend Danny how revealing too much information could swiftly destroy one's life. "Of course I know what could happen! But I don't care! And I still ain't sorry that I lost control and took a chance that night! Because let me tell you something, that one kiss was worth way more to me than banging some chick I'll never feel anything for! I just wish things could be like this all the time!"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_Coop's face reddened from something other than his fever. "Just...living a different kind of life instead of pretending to be someone I'm not! ! I don't even know what I mean by that. I guess being able to see each other whenever we wanted to is what I really mean. I'm sick and tired of making plans day to day, not knowing what'll happen or when I'm gonna see you!"_

_"Look, I don't like it any more than you do" admitted Jimmy quietly, twisting his wedding ring around his left ring finger. "Hell, if it wasn't for the kids...me and Eileen probably wouldn't even still be together. I'm sure you picked up a long time ago things haven't been great between us in a longtime. And remember what you said about whatever your folks having had died a long time ago? Well, I think me and Eileen are getting close to that. We got so tired of arguing with each other all the time that I've been sleeping on the couch in the living room for at least six months now. It's easier for me to just crash there instead of going upstairs and chancing another fight with Eileen that'll wake the kids up."  
_

_Coop raised his eyebrows, surprised to hear things with Brunos' marriage were worse than he had been led to believe. "So, if you two can't stand each other, why the hell stay married when it's a fraud and you're both miserable? I mean, do you think Eileen wants to keep living like this?"  
_

_"Fuck, Coop! It ain't that simple! I got three kids who still need a dad! And some part of me still loves Eileen!"_

_Coop leaned back and sighed, Robin's fur brushing his head. "Look, Jimmy, like I told you last week, I'm not asking for that. I ain't asking you to leave your kids. I can't tell you what I'm asking for when I don't even know myself what that something is!"_

_Jim eyed Coop with a sad look. So close, yet so far, from his heart's greatest desire. Then he grasped Coop's hand._

_Coop gaped at Jimmy. Sudden gestures of affection were not his partner's strong suit._

_Tightening his grip, Jimmy looked at Coop pleadingly. "Look, I'm sorry I can't do what you want right now. But I can promise you one thing."_

_"What's that?"_

_Jimmy squirmed as he felt colour pour back into his cheeks. "I promise, whatever happens, I'll do my best to make things work out for us. I don't know exactly how I'm gonna pull that off. But I'll never just take off on you. We're partners to the end."_

_Coop smiled and his face brightened. "You mean that, Jimmy?"_

_"Of course I do!"_

_"Well then, I know just how to seal the deal," said Coop, leaning over to give Jimmy a peck before a cough interrupted his plans._

_"Maybe later," Jimmy had said as he had gotten up from the sofa and shot Coop a smirk of his own. "There's a lot I wanna share with you, but germs ain't one of them!"_

* * *

God, I fucked up and betrayed Coop big time! Jimmy thought, turning away from the window to face Coop.

Seeing Elizabeth still clutching Coop's hand in her own and oblivious to the two nurses behind her trying to catch her attention, he began to think as he studied his gold wedding band. Its simplicity was a sharp divergence from the significance it had held in screwing with his life. He wondered how he could want two things so diametrically opposed to one another: a peaceful, swift end to Coop's suffering while also longing to have more time together with his partner.


	25. Through the Concrete Wall

As Jimmy continued to wrestle with what it was he wanted for Coop, Nurse Taylor gently shook Elizabeth's shoulder.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Cooper?"

"Yes?" asked Elizabeth, not taking her eyes away from Coop.

"Your husband is here and he would like to see you in the hallway," explained Donna, putting a gentle hand on Elizabeth's shoulder.

Gripping Coop's hand tighter, Elizabeth shook her head. "Brogan can come in here. I'm not leaving Sean alone!"

"Dr. Tomlinson needs to perform some tests," said Donna. "It won't take long and, after that, Dr. Tomlinson would like to speak to both you and Mr. Cooper in her office. The priest you're with is also back and he can come into her office with you."

Turning around, Elizabeth's eyes caught Donna's. "But I promised Sean he wouldn't be alone with strangers…not even for a minute! Is it alright then if Jimmy stays in here with him?"

Jimmy raised his head at the mention of his name.

Eying Jimmy, Nurse Taylor considered Elizabeth's request. "That shouldn't be a problem, if it's alright with Mr. Bruno, of course."

"Sure it is!" declared Jimmy as his mouth began to feel dry.

Sighing as she let go of Coop's hand and got to her feet, Elizabeth nodded her head. "Okay, I'll go with you." Bending back down, Elizabeth whispered into Coop's ear, "Sean sweetie, I have to go speak with the doctor and your father for a moment. Don't worry, Jimmy is here with you. Like I promised, you won't be left alone."

"Marie," whispered Donna to Nurse Taylor, "I'll take Mrs. Cooper out into the hallway. Are you okay to perform the vitals check and other tests with Jill?"

"No problem at all," Nurse Taylor replied back.

"Alright," said Donna, offering her arm to Elizabeth. "Just follow me right this way."

* * *

As that special Saturday he and Jimmy had spent together finished reeling through his mind, Coop shook his head as he got up from his desk chair and took a seat on the sofa. Resting his feet on the coffee table, Coop pulled Robin up beside him and began petting him absently as his thoughts began to race.

"That damn bastard!" Coop thought as he began scratching Robin's ear. "Why can't Danny ever just come right out and say what he means instead of pissing me off and making me figure things out by myself? Isn't it his damn job to tell me what things I think are and aren't true?"

Then a realization struck him. "Then again," said Coop aloud as he brushed hair out of his eyes, "I've not exactly _wanted_ to listen to Danny or remember the good times with Jimmy so maybe—maybe that's why the bastard did it. God damn it, Danny!"

Biting his lip, Coop began to feel angry as he thought about the promise Jimmy had made him that weekend. "Some promise you kept there, huh Jimmy? It lasted what, two weeks? God damn it you screwed things up big time when you threw me aside like dirt! If I was back down there with you, I'd kick your ass from Philly to Boston before busting your skull! If you'd kept your word and been beside me at the bridge, maybe I'd have had a chance to get a shot off at that robber, or something!"

Coop shook his head as Robin climbed onto his lap. "Then again Jimmy, you can be so God damn stupid when you're afraid. Just what the hell was it Murphy said to you to make you do a one-eighty about us so fast? And if it had been you getting shot instead of me, I'd probably end up putting a bullet in my own head if you didn't make it. And hell, going to the dispatch alone and not telling you about Eileen finding out about us was _my_ call, not yours. And I didn't tell you about Eileen because I was terrified of how you'd react!"

Coop sighed as he picked Robin up and placed him on the armrest beside him. "Well," said Coop, turning to Robin, "Pop always says I have to quit blaming other people for my mistakes…so why the hell should I condemn Jimmy because he made one mistake…a huge one, no shit, but still…" Coop leaned back with a sigh. "Just what the hell is it I do here? I just don't know if I'm strong enough to go through any more of this shit, Slugger."

* * *

"Alright, Nurse Taylor, could you please take Sean's blood pressure while I check his pulse, lungs, and heart?"

"No problem, Doctor," said Nurse Taylor, reaching for the blood pressure cuff on the wall behind Coop's head.

Watching Dr. Tomlinson place the head of her stethoscope on one of the few areas of Coop's chest not taken over by bandages, Jimmy squirmed.

* * *

_Coop furrowed his brow and feigned hurt at Jimmy refusing to kiss him. "Just when the hell do you figure Jimmy I'll have no germs to share with you?"_

" _Hmmm, good question," said Jimmy, tapping his chin with his forefinger. "Lemme check something," said Jimmy, pulling the coffee table towards him and until there was enough room for him to kneel in front of Coop. "Just hang tight for a sec."_

" _What you gonna do?" asked Coop, cocking an eyebrow._

_Swinging his arms around Coop's torso, Jimmy pressed an ear to Coop's Vicks covered chest. Jimmy felt himself tense and his mouth go dry as Coop's strong, steady heartbeat thundered through his head like the beat from a Native American drum. He winced and shuddered with each wheezy breath Coop took._

_As Jimmy's warm breath ghosted his skin, Coop nestled_ _his chin into Jimmy's hair, slipping a hand past Jimmy's shirt collar as he ran it along Jimmy's back. Coop took a deep inhale of Brylcreem and let out a content sigh as he willed this moment to last forever._

_After a minute, Jimmy got up and smirked at Coop. "Well, I know the answer now!"_

" _When?" asked Coop, pulling his hand back reluctantly as his chest still burned like fire from where Jimmy's head had rested._

" _I'll be kissing you again when it doesn't sound like a thunderstorm in your chest!"_

" _Hmmm," said Coop in a gravelly voice, a broad smile crossing his face as he gave Jimmy a punch on the shoulder. "Dr. Jim, Medicine Man. Could be a new TV show!_

" _Hell no!" Jimmy shot back, looking flustered as he tried to wipe Vicks out of his hair. "Who the hell would watch something called that?"_

_Coop let out a dry chuckle and smirked at Jimmy. "Whatever you say, but if something like that does end up as a TV show down the road, I'll sue your ass for shooting down my idea!"  
_

* * *

"Okay," said Nurse Taylor as she finished squeezing the blood pressure cuff on Coop's left arm. "Blood pressure is one-twenty over eighty."

"And pulse is seventy-five, clear breath sounds on both sides," said Dr. Tomlinson, removing her stethoscope from Coop's chest. "No new blood or fluid in the chest tubes, either. Hopefully, that unit of blood transfusing will be the last one. Vital signs are improved."

Sitting behind Nurse Taylor and Dr. Tomlinson back on his stiff, green vinyl chair, Jimmy tried to decipher the medical jargon the nurse and doctor were using. "Is Coop better or worse?" Jimmy wondered nervously as he picked at the skin on his right thumb with his forefinger.

"What would you like to do next, Doctor?" asked Nurse Taylor, replacing the blood pressure cuff on the wall behind Coop's bed.

"We need to do the pain stimuli test and also check his eyes. I don't believe Dr. Buchanan has performed the former," said Dr. Thomlinson, fishing in her pocket for a pin. "Could you please prepare Mr. Bruno for what I'm about to do?"

"Of course." Turning to Jimmy, Nurse Taylor lowered herself to look Jimmy at eye-level. "Um, Mr. Bruno, to check on Sean's pain responses, Dr. Tomlinson is going to have to poke his toe with a pin. It can—um—be rather difficult to watch. Would you like to leave the room for a minute?"

Gritting his teeth, Jimmy shook his head fiercely. "No way. I promised Elizabeth I'd stay here with Coop and that's just what I'm gonna do!"

"Very well," Dr. Tomlinson sighed as she finally found the pin. "It's probably best if you look away, though."

"I'm fine," Jimmy mumbled, unable to keep his eyes away from Coop's foot as Dr. Tomlinson moved towards it. When the needle pierced the flesh, Jimmy felt his face go an interesting shade of green.

* * *

"YEOW!" Coop screamed as a sharp stab of pain invaded his left foot. Gripping his foot between two hands, Coop leapt onto one foot and began hopping around the den, crashing and falling into the coffee table.

CRASH! The den door flew open with a bang.

Adrenalin kicking in, Robin scrambled over Coop and raced out of the den and into the front hall like a race car, almost skidding into the wall as he took a sharp corner into Coop's bedroom.

* * *

"What the hell?" thought Danny aloud, dropping _Gone with the Wind_ to the floor as he jumped to his feet and began running down the hall to the den, in the direction of where he thought he had heard a loud scream and bang.

Coming up to the den's entrance, Danny screamed, "Coop, what the hell is going in there?" and stopped cold in the doorway when he spotted the overturned, broken coffee table.

Coop had vanished.

* * *

" _Shit!" Coop screamed as he opened his eyes and saw pitch blackness. A strong sense of deja vu from a similar journey filled his body with dread._

_The wind whizzing past his ears, Coop tried to protect his head as he felt himself hurtle through the air like a football._

_Thud!_

_His body exploding in pain, Coop thumped off a concrete wall and landed on his back against another._

" _Shit!" Coop screamed as he screwed his eyes shot. Tentatively, Coop began stretching each arm and leg to see if anything was broken and was relieved that he was able to move them easily as the pain began to fade._

_Opening his eyes as he sat up, Coop squinted and tried to figure out where he was, but the darkness was so complete he was unable to see his own hand directly in front of his face._

_Then Coop smashed his eyes shut as white light exploded before them._

* * *

Easing Coop's left eyelid shut, Dr. Tomlinson felt relief that this round of tests was over. "Well, pupils are small, but appropriately reactive to light. Pain stimuli response was also positive; that'll be good news to report to the Coopers."

"Definitely," Nurse Taylor replied, making a notation on Coop's chart. "Would you like me to take the Coopers and the priest into your office?"

"Yes, please," said Dr. Tomlinson, putting her penlight back in her coat pocket as Nurse Taylor put Coop's chart away and headed for the hallway. Spotting Jimmy sitting still, Dr. Tomlinson tapped his shoulder. "Mr. Bruno, are you okay?"

Still feeling queasy from seeing the pin stab Coop's toe, Jimmy managed a weak smile as he shrugged. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired is all."

"Yes, I'm sure it's been a trying morning for you all." Dr. Tomlinson sighed as she took her hand away from Jimmy.

"I uh—didn't understand a whole lot of what you were talking about," said Jimmy, his ears turning redder than his shirt. "But I gotta know…will Coop be okay?"

"I'm afraid it's too early to tell," began Dr. Tomlinson as she brought herself back in front of Jimmy. "Sean suffered very serious injuries and things are still touch and go. For right now, however, all things considered, he's doing as well as could be expected."

Jimmy sighed as he leaned against his chair.

Sighing, Dr. Tomlinson checked the one watch strapped to her left wrist. "Well, I'm afraid I must be going to my office now to discuss the current situation with the Coopers. You'll be okay by yourself for a bit, I hope?"

Jimmy's eyes widened and he felt his stomach begin to churn as he turned to face Dr. Tomlinson. "Me? Al—ll—one in here with Coop?" Jimmy stammered. "But if something happens, what would I do?"

"I'll be leaving the door open and the nurses' station is right across the hall," explained Dr. Tomlinson gently. "And Dr. Peters is doing rounds and is only a shout away. If you're concerned about anything, please let Nurse Anderson at the nurses' station know and she will take care of it. Otherwise, if you're not comfortable, you're welcome to step into the hall for a few minutes."

Jimmy shook his head. "No, I promised Coop's mother I'd stay. She doesn't want him alone."

Heading for the doorway, Dr. Tomlinson shot Jimmy an understanding smile. "I can understand; it's never easy to have your child in this sort of place."

As Dr. Tomlinson's back slipped from view, Jimmy ducked his head as he turned back around to face Coop. The moment he had longed for and dreaded had finally arrived; he was alone with Coop.

* * *

_Remaining where he sat, Coop rubbed his eyes which stung from the explosion of light that had disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared._

_As the pain eased, Coop bit his lip as he wondered if dared explore this new dimension he had landed in. Terrified he'd fall over a cliff he was unable to see, Coop decided it best to remain in place._

The hissing from the respirator the only sound in the room, Jimmy pulled his shirt collar upwards to wipe sweat off his forehead.

_Hiss! Hiss!_

" _Oh, shit! Snakes!" Coop shouted as he looked around for the source of the noise, his voice echoing off the concrete wall he had ricocheted off. Coop's heart thudded in his ears and he felt his hands begin to shake, his palms to sweat._

Taking a deep breath, Jimmy looked at Coop's hand before taking it in his own, gripping it as hard as he dared.

_Coop stopped his terrified scramble when he felt a vice-like grip on his left hand. The trembling grip both warm and clammy he knew better than almost anything. "Jimmy!" screamed Coop, his words bouncing back at him._

Jimmy sighed as warmth from Coop's hand seeped into his own. Looking at Coop's cut up face, Jimmy felt relief to see a slight touch of pink in Coop's cheeks, his light dusting of freckles less prominent. "Hey, Coop," Jimmy said in a low voice he hoped no one could hear.

" _Jimmy! Man, I'm glad you're here! Do you know where the hell we are?" Coop asked desperately, clutching Jimmy's hand._

Coop's hand moving slightly in his, Jimmy felt his jaw drop open.

" _Jimmy! Why the hell aren't you answering me?"_

Clutching Coop's hand even tighter, Jimmy began studying Coop's features that weren't concealed by blankets and bandages. The lock of hair that always seemed to get the best of Coop and dip down into his eyes if not slicked and combed back with gobs of hair oil. The light dusting of freckles that drove Coop crazy when they appeared each summer like clockwork. The short fingernails that always seemed to have dirt caked beneath them. If this was the last time he and Coop were ever together, Jimmy wanted to memorize Coop by heart so he would know him when the time came for them to meet again.

"But that's so stupid," Jimmy muttered, running his free hand through his greasy hair. "I already know you by heart, Coop; I know you better than I know myself.

" _Huh, what the hell are you talking about, Jimmy?" Coop asked in confusion, getting more and more frustrated as Jimmy refused to make any sense._

Jimmy shuddered as the damage inflicted upon Coop's broken body that began to remind of the Barbie doll his son Adam had tried in vain to fix after his daughter Patty had tried to perform an operation on it. Crisscrossed by bandages showing patches of blood and cuts scarring Coop's face, Jimmy wondered how someone could have been so vicious to someone he loved. "God, you look like hell Coop. But this is probably nothing compared to what I did to you inside, is it?"

" _It's dark as hell in here, Jimmy! How the hell do you know what I look like?" Coop demanded, squeezing Jimmy's hand with all his might._

Tears came into Jimmy's eyes as he remembered that last time he had seen Coop healthy and vital. "Good God, Coop, if you only knew how sorry I was for what I did to you. I didn't mean any of it! Hell, why didn't you just turn back into the parking lot when I shouted after you? Why did this have to be the only time you ever walked away from a fight with me?"

_The blackness ever enveloping, Coop sighed as he realized the tangent Jimmy had taken off on. "Okay, Jimmy, you screwed up. No question there. But that ain't important right now! What's important is we're together and gotta figure a way to get the hell out of here! I promise, when I find Danny, I'll knock some sense through his thick skull! Him messing around with me is one thing, but screwing with you is another!"_

Jimmy bit his lip as he dabbed his eyes dry with the bottom of his red shirt. "Coop, I know this has to the worst fight you've ever been up against, but I know you can do it. Please, hang on. You have no idea how upset your mom and Serge and Father Mack are; they've been here all night and I got here as soon as I could. Please, keep hanging on. When you come back, I promise things will be different. I promise I won't let my feelings be ruled by fear. I'll look out for you, just like I promised! I'll do whatever you want!"

" _What the hell is it you think I've been doing, Jimmy?" thought Coop wearily as he loosened his grip on Jimmy's hand. "Everything I've done lately has been to make you and me happy. We're the lucky ones."_

"But, God this kills me to say, Coop, but I gotta say it. If this fight is too hard, I understand if you need to let go. If this is too difficult, fly away and be free as fast you can," whispered Jimmy, letting his tears fall. "I love you Coop and promise if you need to go, that somehow we'll all be okay. And I promise to nail the bastard that did this to you!"

"Shit, I can't believe I just told him to give up! Coop would hate my guts if he knew I thought he couldn't beat this!" Jimmy thought as he sniffed back the rest of his tears and grabbed his shirt to wipe away the rest, a stray one landing on the top of Coop's hand.

* * *

Dr. Tomlinson's office was tiny and it was necessary for Serge to stand whilst Father Mack and Elizabeth took seats in front of Dr. Tomlinson's desk.

Her hands folded neatly, Dr. Tomlinson took a breath. "I'm pleased to say Sean remains stable and appears to have made some slight improvements. The chest tubes haven't drained any more blood or fluid and, if they remain clear, we can hopefully remove one of them on Monday morning."

"I just don't understand," Elizabeth whispered, clenching Father Mack's hand. "I can't understand how Sean is supposed to wake up if he's sedated."

Tapping a pen on her desk, Dr. Tomlinson picked her words carefully. "Unfortunately, Mrs. Cooper, the sedation is necessary to prevent Sean from waking up."

Serge let out a loud sigh as he slumped back against the beige wall. "According to that other doctor who spoke to us there's no danger of that happening, anyway."

"Yes, I am aware Dr. Buchanan was a bit blunt in his prognosis," admitted Dr. Tomlinson. "Dr. Buchanan is very experienced and has handled a lot of cases like this. Sean had lost consciousness by the time he reached the hospital and he'd also quit breathing, in addition to losing over half of his blood volume. That meant he was in a coma before he was even sedated and taken into surgery. All these are factors that make brain damage probable."

"However, the tests right now are hopeful; Sean's blood pressure has stabilized and he is showing appropriate neurological responses to light and pain. Let's focus on what Sean is doing right now and not what the statistics say he should or shouldn't be doing. Until Sean does wake up, it's impossible to say what, if any, brain damage has occurred."

"Why can't you let Sean wake up right now, then?" asked Elizabeth tearfully as her eyelids began to droop with fatigue.

"With the chest tubes, bandages, arm sling and respirator, it is much safer for Sean to remain sedated until they're removed," explained Dr. Tomlinson as she began scribbling notes across a piece a paper. "Waking up in a hospital is often confusing and very scary for the patients and the medications Sean is on only add to that. If Sean were to wake up too quickly and not realize where he is, he might disturb the equipment. His shoulder also needs to remain immobilized if that clavicle is going to heal correctly. It will be much easier on him if we ease the sedation once the respirator is removed."

"You see, Brogan and Elizabeth," said Father Mack as he clenched one hand from each of them. "Where there's life, there's hope. While we must be prepared for what could happen, we must rejoice in the positive."

"You are very right, Father," said Dr. Tomlinson, getting up from her seat. "You know five years ago, when the Intensive Care Unit was set up here, the sorts of injuries Sean sustained wouldn't have been survivable. Now, things are different; the rules of the game have changed and new precedents are being set all the time. But it's important to keep one thing in mind."

"What's that?" asked Serge.

"Well, you might have heard of the expression 'taking each day as it comes,'" explained Dr. Tomlinson, pulling her white lab coat back on. "In a place like this, it's taking it second by second. We'll have to keep a very close eye on Sean at all times and intervene if necessary to make sure he stays stable as each day comes."

"We understand," Elizabeth whispered softly, trying to put stray hairs back into her braid. "Until Sean does wake up, what can we do? Just sit by his bed and keep a vigil?"

"Well, just because Sean isn't awake doesn't mean he can't hear you. One thing our patients in similar situations consistently report after they recover is remembering sounds and conversations. You definitely should talk to Sean as much as possible and let him know you're here. Keep it positive; let him know you love him and that he is going to be alright. You might also want to bring in some of his favourite things for him to hold. Or favourite books to hear read to him. Other families have found reading a good way to keep talking when if they find keeping a one sided conversation difficult"

"Alright, we'll do that. Can we please see Sean now?"

"Of course," said Doctor Tomlinson as she finished buttoning up her coat. There's just one thing, first. Mr. Cooper, I am going to ask that you don't go into the room right away. I want Nurse Taylor to prepare you for the equipment and Sean's appearance. She will then go into the room with you to explain how everything that you're seeing. A lot of the equipment in the room is stuff that most people are not accustomed to."

"Alright." Serge sighed, all his anger and rage burnt away with ashes in their place.

* * *

_His mouth gaping open, Coop sat in stunned silence, shaking his head in disbelief that Jimmy had declared his love before it had even crossed his mind to do so. But feelings he had_ _considered dead the night before were still there. Jimmy turning his back on him hadn't killed his love; it had only intensified it._

_Jimmy's tear dried on Coop's hand as Coop tried to understand what Jimmy had just told him he was free to do. "Are you insane, Jimmy? After doing what I did to get stuck with Danny lecturing me in a small house all night and morning? You think I'm just gonna fly away and wash my hands of you, just like that? What the hell, is that some sort of challenge you're giving me?"_

_The hissing snakes began to fade into the background and Coop began to feel uneasy when he realized he could no longer hear Jimmy's voice._

Exhausted and feeling ready to pass out, Jimmy's eyes closed as the room once again became enveloped in silence, the respirator making the only noise. Feeling a sudden tap on his shoulder, Jimmy's eyes sprung open as he let go of Coop's hand and turned around.

"James, sorry to startle you," whispered Father Mack, "but Elizabeth and I are back now."

Jimmy sighed as he got to his feet and offered his seat to Father Mack. "Did you get everything sorted out at the church, Father?"

Grateful to rest his feet, Father Mack eased himself into the chair after letting Elizabeth pass by to reclaim the seat nearest Coop's head. "I did, James. Poor Father William is a bit flustered because he couldn't find the sermon I wrote for today's mass. He's so young and new; I hope that I'm not asking too much of him. He did reassure me he'll have the congregation pray for Sean's recovery."

Scuffling his shoe along the floor as he rubbed his eyes, Jimmy offered Father Mack as slight smile. "I'm sure it'll work out, Father. You're always telling us that somehow, some way, everything works out for the best."

"I do indeed." Father Mack sighed. "You must be exhausted James. Will you be heading home now?"

"Not right away. I gotta go take Joe out there back to the station so the poor kid can head home himself. I'll come back here after I go clean up and let Eileen know what's going on."

" _I gotta go!" Jimmy's words echoed off the concrete and bounced into Coop's ears with such force he almost feel over backwards._

" _Jimmy!" Coop screamed so loud that he almost choked on the words. "Don't go, please!"_

_His last words flew back at him in a rush and knocked Coop backwards. Bouncing off the ground, Coop could feel himself hurtling somersaulting as he flew up into the air._

"Jimmy, you were on shift all night, please don't do that to yourself," begged Elizabeth worriedly, turning around to face Jimmy.

"Mrs. Coo—I mean, Elizabeth, I don't wanna be anywhere else but here," said Jimmy quietly as he clutched his nightstick. "Eileen will understand."

"Well, if you're sure…" Elizabeth began.

"Very sure," declared Jimmy, his mouth closing into a firm line.

"If that's the case Jimmy, can I ask you to do a small favour?" asked Elizabeth, hesitant for Jimmy to sacrifice any more time of his time.

"Sure, Elizabeth. What do you need?"

"The doctor suggested…well, until Sean wakes up, that it might be helpful to bring some of his favourite things in. Books to read to him, some favourite item to hold, that sort of thing. I have no idea these days what things Sean is into. You spend so much more time and see so much more of him than I do. Do you think you might know what some of those things are?" Elizabeth asked hopefully as she clenched Coop's hand.

Jimmy sighed as he wreaked his brain. "I have a few ideas. I can get his house key out of his locker probably and stop at his house on my way back here." "Just too bad I can't bring Robin out here, being that old sack of bones is so damn important to him," Jimmy thought as he remembered Coop's cat. "Oh, while I'm at Coop's place, I'll also make sure that darn cat of his is fed, too."

"I would be so grateful if you would do that, Jimmy." Elizabeth sighed as she turned back to face Coop. "I'll never understand why he still has that skinny old Tom cat, but I know Sean would appreciate you taking care of Robin until he's able to go home."

"No problem. Well Elizabeth, Father, I guess I'll be heading out now."

"Of course, James," whispered Father Mack, offering his hand out to Jimmy. "Thank you so much for all you've done today. God be with you."

"I need a lot more than God to forgive what I did," Jimmy thought miserably as he shook Father Mack's hand. "You too, Father. God bless."

* * *

"Coop!" Danny shouted as he climbed out of the cellar for the second time. "Quit hiding from me! This isn't funny!"

Sighing as he finished searching the den for a third time, Danny collapsed onto the sofa. He had searched under the bed, under the kitchen and bathroom sinks, in Coop's closet, but had still come up empty. Losing cases was one thing, but causing his best friend to go missing? Danny hoped Coop turned back up soon; otherwise, he'd have to make a phone call to the Boss that he was already beginning to dread.

Carefully, Robin crept out from underneath Coop's bed and wandered back into the den, hopping over the broken table and onto Danny's lap.

"Well, you old bag of bones, do you know where Coop is hiding?"

His eyes widening, Robin only began purring as he curled up on Danny's lap.

"No, of course you don't. And even if you did, I can't speak Cat yet," Danny sighed, pulling a short lock of hair between his fingertips until a loud scream and clatter forced him out of his seat to go see what was the matter.


	26. The World Spins

Dashing down the hall, Danny skidded into the wall outside the den when he thought he heard a groan come from Coop's bedroom. Rubbing where his head had banged, Danny poked his head through the open doorway and felt his mouth drop open.

Sprawled on his back over one corner of the bed with his T-shirt pulled inside out over his head, Coop felt his head brushing his bedroom carpet while the lower half of his body hung precariously over the edge of his bed.

Sprinting over, Danny grabbed Coop under the arms and hauled him up onto the bed with all his might.

"The hell, Coop!" Danny gasped as he pulled Coop's T-shirt back into place, his usual inhibitions to cursing fleeing his wits. "What happened? Where the hell were you?"

Gritting his teeth, Coop closed his eyes and willed the room to stop spinning.

"Coop, you okay? You don't look so good…"

Before Danny had a chance to finish, Coop's face went from chalk white to green and he rushed past Danny and out of the bedroom without a second glance.

"Coop, what the hell man?" Danny yelled as he tried to keep up with Coop's rapid sprint. The bathroom door slamming in his face halted Danny's trek.

"Coop, what the hell is going on?" Danny called through the closed door.

"BLEEEEGH!" Coop let out a loud retch and the sound of splashing water echoed into Danny's ears.

"Damn!" Danny said aloud, wringing his hands as he backed away from the door, feeling a little sick himself.

Knowing Coop would not want him to linger outside the bathroom, Danny headed back for the living room. Before taking a seat, Danny picked up _Gone with the Wind_ , its battered spine now containing another crack. Danny sighed as Robin hopped up alongside him.

* * *

Rubbing his eyes and limping slowly, Jimmy entered the ICU hallway and looked in both directions for Joe. Spotting Joe curled up in a chair a short way down the hall with his eyes closed, Jimmy worked his way past Dr. Tomlinson, Nurse Taylor, and Serge. When he reached Joe, Jimmy gave him a light tap on the forehead.

"Huh?" Joe murmured thickly, chasing off visions of blood and McCree's sneering face.

"Time to go, kid," said Jimmy, offering Joe a hand.

Grasping Jimmy's hand and pulling himself up, Joe shot Jimmy a questioning look as they began to head down the hallway. "Where we going, Jimmy?"

Jimmy sighed as he and Joe stopped near Dr. Tomlinson and Serge. The poor kid was even more exhausted and out of it than he was. "Back to the station, kid. You and me both gotta head home."

Hearing Jimmy's voice, Serge's attention began to drift away from Nurse Taylor's longwinded explanation of what the ventilator was for.

"You're not gonna stay here, Jimmy?"

"I got a wife and three kids at home probably wondering where the hell I am," Jimmy explained, cracking his knuckles absently. "Besides, I promised Coop's mom I'd pick up some stuff from his place. Stuff the doc thought might be helpful. So I'll be back here soon enough."

Serge put one hand up in front of Dr. Tomlinson's face. "Just a moment, please," Serge muttered as he saw Jimmy and Joe make their way towards the elevator. "Jimmy, hold up a minute!"

"Yeah, Serge?" Jimmy called back, turning around in surprise as he grabbed Joe by his shirt collar.

"Um, I heard you say that—uh—you're heading back to the station," Serge stammered, pulling at the collar of his shirt. "Mind if I go with you?"

"Don't you wanna stay here with Father Mack and Elizabeth, Serge?" Jimmy asked, feeling his eyes bulge.

"Well, I heard you're heading to Coop's place. I thought, I dunno, maybe I could help you out with that. Besides, I wanna hear if they've made any headway catching the bastard that did this!"

Joe felt his stomach clench as he looked down at the ground. "God, me and that guy in the same car together? God help me!" Joe silently prayed.

"Well, I guess so, if you don't mind riding in the backseat of the car," said Jimmy in surprise.

"No, don't mind at all."

"Well, if that is what you are going to do, I will let your wife and the priest know, Mr. Cooper," said Dr. Tomlinson, giving Serge a puzzled glance of her own.

"Thanks, appreciate it," Serge mumbled, turning away to join Jimmy and Joe.

Dr. Tomlinson grabbed Serge's arm as he tried to brush past her. "Mr. Cooper, I know you've had a tough morning, but I really think seeing Sean sooner rather than later would be best thing you can do right now."

Serge felt his fists tighten as he forced himself to look straight into Dr. Tomlinson's china blue eyes. "Doctor, you got kids?"

"No, Mr. Cooper, I don't."

"Well, then you probably can't understand then why I'd rather remember my son as he was. I don't think he'd want me to see him like this."

Dr. Tomlinson crossed her arms as she weighed Serge's words in her mind. "I can understand your sentiments, Mr. Cooper. What you've heard and been through these past hours has surely been horrendous, to say the least. But please believe me when I say that I don't think the whole story about this situation has been written yet."

Shaking his head, Serge turned away from Dr. Tomlinson and put a hand on Jimmy' s shoulder. "Jimmy, get me the hell out of this place."

* * *

"Man, I'm glad to be outta there," Joe muttered under his breath as he took in a deep gulp of warm Sunday air.

Making their way towards the haphazardly parked patrol car, Jimmy couldn't disagree with Joe as he began to survey the early Sunday afternoon they were rejoining. As the exhausted group shuffled forward, excited kids still dressed their Sunday best and weary adults carrying flowers and cards raced past them towards the main entrance to Penn General.

"Our whole world has been destroyed, but the rest of it keeps going on like nothing happened," Jimmy thought as they at last reached the patrol car.

"Man, I must have been out of it last night," Joe mused, surveying his parking job with distaste.

"Joe," called Jimmy, pulling Joe away from his reflections. "Can you open up the door for Serge there, being you got the keys and all?"

"Sure, Jimmy," Joe muttered, fishing the keys out of his pocket. Fumbling with the lock, Joe let out a loud sigh when it at last released. "Here you go, sir," said Joe quietly, opening the door for Serge.

Serge brushed past Joe and slammed the door without a second glance at the nervous rookie.

"So, you want to drive, Jimmy?" Joe asked, as he joined Jimmy by the front passenger door.

Jimmy shook his head. "Nah. I've been up so long I ain't trusting myself till I grab a quick cup of coffee at the station. Besides, it would feel weird; Coop always drove—er—drives," Jimmy stammered, catching the stricken glance Serge was shooting him.

"Alright, Jimmy, if you're tired, I'll drive," said Joe quickly, pretending that was all Jimmy had said.

* * *

As Danny lost another staring contest with Robin, both looked up when they heard footsteps pad into the living room.

His face once more ashen, Coop made his way to his armchair and collapsed on it with a weary sigh.

"There you are! Coop, what the heck was that all about?" inquired Danny, getting up from the couch and pacing over to Coop's side.

"Don't bug me, Danny." Coop groaned, clenching his stomach and arching his head backwards.

"Is it your stomach?"

"You could say that," Coop admitted, taking a long swallow. He sighed as Robin jumped up onto the armrest aside him.

"Hang tight. I'll get you some soda water or something. Should help settle things down."

* * *

"Well, here we are," said Joe, as he finished parking the patrol car in the parking lot across the road from the 5th District Police station. Though the car had only been stopped for a few moments, the stagnant, hot air was already enveloping them.

"Guess so," Jimmy murmured as he unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled himself slowly out of the car. After so much time spent sitting, his knees were protesting against so much movement. "You coming in with us, Serge?"

Realizing he was back at the station, Serge shook his head as he emerged from the patrol car. "No, Jimmy. I'll just wait for you by your car. Think you'll be long?"

"No, Serge. I'm just gonna grab a coffee, get Coop's keys, and change quick. Then we can head for my place," Jimmy called as Serge began to make his way out of the parking lot.

"Alright, Jimmy," Serge muttered with a defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping as he crossed the road without bothering to look both ways.

"God, Serge, you gotta hang in there," Jimmy thought desperately as he saw Serge's hunched form disappear behind the station as he and Joe headed across the road. "Coop needs someone to stay strong and positive for him because I sure as hell wasn't tough enough to do it."

* * *

Draining the last of the soda water, Coop put his empty glass on the side table beside him as he let out a loud burp.

"Feeling better?" Danny asked as he edged himself on the sofa as close he could to Coop. He was relieved to see Coop's face regaining its normal ruddy glow.

"Yeah, thanks," Coop muttered as he directed his eyes on Danny. A rueful grin came to his face. "Guess you finally know why now."

"Know what?" asked Danny, his eyes widening in confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Coop."

"Why I always had to sit at the front of the bus when we went to away games," Coop explained, stretching his arms above his head. "I couldn't have stood the guys knowing about this, so after enough shoving matches, the guys just gave me the front seat by default and my secret was safe."

"Uh, I still have no idea what you mean."

"God damn it, Danny! For a smart guy you can be pretty dumb sometimes! Do I got to spell it out for you? I get motion sickness, alright!" Coop shouted, causing Robin to dash to the other side of the room.

"What, motion sickness?" Danny stammered, shaking his head in disbelief until a thought struck him. "Wait, is that the real reason you wouldn't come with the team when we went to Steeplechase on Coney Island? Not because it was a dump on its way out like you said?"

"Yeah," Coop admitted, still feeling a bit woozy. "That's also why I always drive when me and Jimmy are out on patrol. I don't get sick if I'm in control of the vehicle. Though I've got Jimmy convinced it's because I think he drives like a little old lady. Which is true enough, anyway."

"Well, alright," said Danny resting his feet on the coffee table. "You mind telling me now then just where the heck you were hiding all this time?"

"I wasn't hiding anywhere!" Coop snapped. "I was in the den, thinking things over and minding my own business when it felt like something stabbed me in the foot! Next thing I know, I'm flying out of the room and crashing into some dark place! Was like that first crazy ride you guys put me on, only I couldn't see where I was going. Then I heard Jimmy blubbering at me, but I couldn't say a word back to him. When that was over, I flew back here and crashed onto my bed! You guys sure have a twisted sense of fun up there too, don't you?"

"Hey, I had no idea what was going on!" Danny protested, thumping his foot in time to each word. "I was in here reading _Gone with the Wind_ when I heard a bunch of noise coming from the den. I raced in there and you were nowhere to be seen. I searched this whole place for you and couldn't find you anywhere! Unless it was a side trip…" Danny murmured, tapping his chin.

"Side trip?"

"Yeah, besides feeling and hearing things from down there, you sometimes take a trip back down to Earth, too," explained Danny before something dawned on him. "Um, I didn't really explain that last part to you, did I?"

"No, you sure as hell didn't!" Coop bellowed, slamming a fist into the armrest.

Scrambling to his feet, Danny's eyes darted around the room as he sought a way to buy himself some time. "Hey, Coop, someone wants to see you!" Danny exclaimed quickly, bending down and stopping Robin's retreat into the kitchen. "Here you go, Coop! A lap warmer!"

"Hey, no fair!" Coop protested as Robin looking up at him fearfully from Danny's arms began to douse his rage.

* * *

"You were awfully quiet on the way back. You okay, kid?" Jimmy asked Joe as he finished changing into his beige chinos, throwing his torn, bloody pants into his locker on top of his ruined shirt.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Joe lied, unlooping his gunbelt from his pants. "Kid," coming from Jimmy no longer offended him; it seemed more an affectionate nickname. "I'm just tired."

"Yeah, I know last night was a rough introduction to the job for you. And I guess Serge sitting behind us didn't ease your nerves any, did it?"

Looking around the deserted locker room and considering the hell they'd been through together, Joe decided not to hide anything from Jimmy. "To be honest, I really don't like that guy, alright."

"Look, I know Serge was a bit short with you in the waiting room this morning," Jimmy admitted as he put on his belt. "But take into consideration what he's going through right now."

"Still no excuse for the other thing he said to me," Joe muttered as he pulled off his T-shirt, stiffened with sweat.

"What other thing?"

"Well, after you went into the room with Cooper's mother, I ran into a nurse I remembered. You see, during my mom's last few months, she practically lived at the hospital and we got to know the nurses who looked after her pretty good. One of the nurses that used to work in oncology now works in the Intensive Care Unit. When she recognized me, we started talking. Well, Cooper's father walked in on the middle of it. That asshole had the nerve to accuse me of flirting with her," said Joe, his face reddening in anger.

"What? Serge said THAT?" Jimmy spat in disbelief.

"Think I would make it up?" Joe asked coldly as he threw on a clean black T-shirt.

"Well, I guess not," Jimmy admitted, shaking his head as he finished tightening his belt. "Guess all I can say in his defense is Serge is really shaken out of his wits because he sure all hell ain't like that normally. I guess to put it into perspective, would your dad be calm and rational in the same situation?"

* * *

" _Nurse, please take the boy out," directed the oncologist, pulling off his thick, brown plastic glasses and tossing them atop Norah Malone's chart._

_Patrick Malone put a hand up. "No, Joey stays. He's no fool and knows bloody well what's going on here. Whatever you have to say to me you can say to him, as well." Patrick's blue eyes become cold, hard ice as he dared the doctor to contradict him._

" _Very well." The oncologist sighed as he twisted a button on his suit jacket. "Mr. Malone, this is never easy to have to tell families, but I'm afraid the experimental chemotherapy treatment we've given your wife hasn't had the potency and efficiency we hoped it would."_

" _You can quit your medical shenanigans! What you mean to say is it didn't work."_

" _Well, yes," the oncologist admitted, wincing from Patrick's blunt words._

" _So, where do we go from here?" asked Patrick, swinging an arm around Joey's tense, hunched shoulders shoulders._

" _I'm afraid we go nowhere; as you know, there is no cure for leukemia. Your wife is no longer in the chronic, manageable stage, but in the grips of an acute blast crisis which is now progressing relentlessly. All we can do is try to make her as comfortable and pain free as possible until the end. At best, if you consent to continued blood transfusions for comfort measures, we estimate she has two to four weeks left."_

" _Are you trying to tell me," Patrick whispered in a low, cold voice as he gripped his coffee mug off the doctor's desk, "after all the fighting Norie's done, that you're just giving up on her? Fuck you!" Patrick spat as he threw the coffee in the doctor's face._

* * *

"No, probably not," Joe admitted, shaking away the ghosts that had been dogging him since he had once again set foot in Penn General. "Speaking of my dad, I gotta be heading home; he'll be wandering where I am. I also wanna get some sleep before I head back in tonight."

"You're back on shift tonight?" asked Jimmy in surprise as he slammed his locker shut and began playing with the combination on Coop's.

"Yeah. Stinson asked if I'd do some overtime to help out with paperwork while you were grabbing a coffee in the break room; he wants to free up as many men as possible until they find Cooper's shooter."

* * *

"I swear, that cat works better at mellowing you out than any drink or concoction I could come up with," said Danny, looking in wonder at Coop stroking Robin's chin.

Coop looked up and shot Danny a glare. "Danny, quit changing the subject! Me not being mad enough to pound you right now doesn't change the fact that you didn't warn me about that little ride back to reality happening!"

"Coop, it was honestly an oversight," Danny pleaded as he began fiddling with Coop's empty Coke bottle. "I told you that this was my first case like this; I'm almost as foreign to this place as you are!"

"Bullshit, Danny! You mentioned side trips, so that means you knew something about it!"

"Honestly, I didn't know what they entailed, Coop! I did a brief apprenticeship with another fellow a few weeks back, but that guy decided almost immediately he wanted to head back down to Earth, so I didn't get a chance to learn how a side trip worked! It's like I've been thrown in the deep end here without my lifejacket!" explained Danny, pacing around the coffee table in frustration.

"Thrown in the deep end without a lifejacket. From being in a world called catastrophe to nothing. A stranger in your own town…," Coop muttered, his voice trailing off as he sank into silence.

"Wonder what the hell he's thinking about now?" Danny thought, as he picked up _Gone with the Wind._ "Guess I'll finally finish this and let Coop be while he figures some more stuff out."

* * *

"Well, we're here, Serge," said Jimmy as he parked his car in his driveway and killed the engine. Serge had been so quiet during the ten minute drive from the station that Jimmy had almost forgotten he was in the car with him.

"So we are," Serge mumbled tonelessly as he continued to stare out the window at Jimmy's small, well-kept front yard. "Will it take you long to get ready?"

"No, Serge; give me fifteen minutes so I can hop in the shower quick and change my clothes. Oh, and so I can tell Eileen what's going on, too. I'm sure she's going crazy with worry right now."

"Probably."

"Serge?" asked Jimmy as he came to Serge's window and knelt down, grimacing as he his knees creaked and stretched painfully. "Did you want to come in for a coffee or water?"

"No thanks," Serge muttered, studying the wrinkles on his tight, dry hands.

"Anything I can get or do for you?"

Looking up with watery eyes, Serge shook his head at Jimmy. "All I want is my boy back, Jimmy. That's all I want right now."

"I understand, Serge. I want Coop to be okay, too" Jimmy mumbled as he stood up and began to make his way toward the house.

"I know you understand, Jimmy. I know you feel the same way, too. Why the hell didn't I just walk away from Murphy or leave well enough alone?" Serge thought as he watched Jimmy's retreating backside.

* * *

Turning the doorknob, Jimmy wasn't surprised to find it unlocked; Eileen always left it unlocked for him when he was due home just before church so the family could make a quick getaway out the door to the car.

Nursing Tommy as she sat in the rocking chair in the living room, Eileen tried to make out the noise in the hall over Adam and Patty's shouts of glee as they continued to build their house of cards higher and higher.

"Daddy!" Patty squealed, jumping to her feet and knocking down the house of cards as she ran to Jimmy and squeezed his legs, her dark braids wrapping themselves round her head.

"Patty!" Adam whined as he began to collect the cards that had scattered all over the blue rug. "Dad, Patty knocked over my card house!"

Scooping Patty up in his arms, Jimmy shot a quick look at Adam as he saw Eileen silently making her way towards them. "Adam, can you do Dad a huge favour?"

"What's that?"

"Can you take Patty and go play in the backyard for a few minutes while I talk to Mom for a bit?"

"But, Dad! I've been playing with Patty all day and Mom said I could go to Kenny's house once you got home!" Adam protested as he threw a handful of cards to the rug angrily.

"Adam, knock that off and go do what I'm telling you to do! You can go to Kenny's later," ordered Jimmy as he put Patty back onto the ground. "I have to talk about something very serious with your mom."

"Alright, Dad," said Adam uneasily as he pulled off his suit jacket and reluctantly took an excited Patty by the hand out of the living room and towards the kitchen.

"So, you finally came home, huh?" Eileen said icily, staring at the floor as she continued to clutch Tommy to her breast. "Do you realize we sat around here all morning waiting for you to come home and that we missed church as a result? What's Father Mack going to think of us now?"

"Father Mack won't think badly of us, I promise you that. I spent all morning with him," said Jimmy evenly. Jimmy thought it best to cut right to the chase and not get into another shouting match.

"What do you mean you've been with him?" Eileen asked, raising her head and gasping when she saw Jimmy's stitched, bulging lip. "Jimmy, what on Earth?"

Startled by his mother's cry, Tommy let go of his mother's breast and began to wail.

"Shhh, Tommy, please calm down," Eileen muttered desperately as she put the infant over her shoulder.

Taking Eileen by the elbow, Jimmy guided her over to the sofa and helped her sit down without a word.

As Tommy calmed down and resumed contently feeding, Eileen looked back up at Jimmy. "Jimmy, what the hell happened to you?"

"Eileen, I'm gonna tell you something very difficult; that's why I sent the kids out of the room. I think it best they don't know yet," explained Jimmy, rubbing his hands together as his palms began to sweat.

"So, it's finally happening. Trying so hard to keep up appearances and now it's finally over because of that man," Eileen thought dully as ten years of marriage began to flash before her eyes.

"Honey, I'm going to need you to be very brave for the kids so they don't sense something's wrong. Last night, something bad happened to Coop."

"What do you mean something happened to Coop? The only one I see hurt is you," said Eileen, confusion clouding her face.

"Well, I got hurt trying…to…get over to help him," Jimmy stammered, his heart wincing as he began to remember snatches of the previous night. "Someone shot him, Eileen. He's in the hospital and they don't know if he's gonna make it or not."

"Oh, God, no!" Eileen gasped, leaning Tommy over her shoulder and bringing a hand to her mouth.

"Look, I know it's hard to believe, but it's the truth," Jimmy pleaded, pulling Eileen's hand from her mouth and clasping it between his. "That's why I didn't come home this morning; I've been with Father Mack and the Coopers pretty much the whole time. After they finished stitching me up, that is."

Eileen swallowed as she wiggled her hand away from Jimmy. Even at her angriest, she would not have wished actual harm upon Coop. "How bad is he, Jimmy?"

Jimmy sighed as he studied the blue rug. "He's really bad off, Eileen. He was shot twice and lost a ton of blood. It doesn't look or sound good at all. His parents…well, Serge is sitting out there in the car now."

"You brought Serge here with you? Why the hell would you do that, Jimmy? He should be at the hospital, fighting with those doctors!" whispered Eileen, nestling Tommy's head gently.

"Because he asked to come along with me! Serge is in no way right now the guy you or me know, Eileen! He took off from the hospital last night like a bat out of hell when they told him how bad Coop was and since he's been back he's walking around like some soulless entity. He's just like a puppy on a leash, Eileen; I had to guide him all the way into my car at the station before we left!"

"Soulless entity?" Eileen whispered back, drawing her head back. "Wherever did you hear such a thing?"

* * *

" _Coop, what does "en—en—it-tee" mean?" Jimmy asked, squinting at the crossed-out words that made up the only writing on the centre of a page in Coop's notebook._

_Across the kitchen table, Coop carefully contemplated his next checkers move and only half-heard Jimmy. "Entity is like a thing or being. Some sort of existence. Why you asking?"_

" _Well, you crossed out soulless entity here and I'm trying to figure out what it is you mean," explained Jimmy, tossing the notebook to one side. "Were you trying to say this is what you feel like or something?"_

_Pulling the notebook out of Jimmy's grasp, Coop flashed him a contemptuous smirk. "Hell no. It's how you're gonna feel when you realize I've beaten you yet again, lightweight!"_

* * *

Jimmy shrugged. "Read it somewhere," he muttered, truthfully enough. "Anyway, point is, Coop is like family and his parents are like family and I wanna help them out any way I can right now. Elizabeth wanted me to go to Coop's and get some stuff of his to bring over to the hospital. Serge overheard me mention it and asked if he could come along. I told him I'd be out after I hop in the shower and change."

"What, you're making him stay out there in the car?" Eileen admonished as she got to her feet. "You could at least invite the poor man in for water!"

Getting up slowly, Jimmy nodded his head as he began to head for the doorway. "I did, Eileen. But Serge didn't want to come in. He needs time, honey. Alone."

"Well, you'd better hurry up so he's not alone for too long," Eileen whispered fiercely as she looked out the window and spotted Serge gazing listlessly out the window and realized Jimmy's tale to be chillingly true.

* * *

"You were right, Jimmy. A soulless entity is exactly how I felt," Coop muttered, scratching Robin's chin.

"Huh?" Danny asked, coming out of his daydream about batting the winning World Series run. _Gone with the Wind_ was long finished and Danny had had to resort to other entertainment after Coop had retreated into silence.

"Just thinking about something Jimmy asked me once," Coop said, raising his head to meet Danny's gaze. "Suppose you already know all of it, don't you?

"Like I told you before Coop, I don't know or understand every thought process you have."

Coop sighed with exasperation as he began to feel irritated with Danny again. "I don't understand, Danny; you told me you could sense what I'm thinking. So why the hell not right now?"

"And I also told you it's a talent I don't have full use of yet," reminded Danny, as he realized what Coop was on about. "So the images and stuff I get are random; I can't control what I receive."

Coop raised his eyebrows and leaned back. "What sorts of images? Help me understand here because I ain't got a clue what you're talking about."

"Hmm, good question," admitted Danny, twirling a pen between his fingers. "You remember that book _The Chrysalids_?"

"About a post-nuclear war society where mutants are sent to some place called the Fringes? Yeah, I read that book not long after I got home. I remember that book 'cos when I read it I was feeling pretty shitty about things and thought the Fringes was where a nutjob like me belonged," Coop confirmed, shrugging the memory off indifferently.

"Yeah, well, hate to disappoint you once again, Coop, but you aren't a nutjob. I'm also still real, whether you like it or not. Well, my point about that book is about those kids in it who had those images telepathically sent between them. That's sort of what it's like for me, only I get words and stuff as well. I can't control it and it drives me up the wall!"

"Yeah, I guess I can understand that. Not being in control of stuff has always driven you nuts, Danny. You always hated losing games with a passion!"

"Guilty as charged. You're the same though too, Coop," Danny countered as he began pacing around the living room. "That respect is one thing we've always had in common."

"So, I guess that's why I got pissed off at you when you wouldn't come right out and tell me what it was you wanted me to remember about Jimmy," Coop admitted as he recalled his previous foray into the den and slamming the door. "I remembered all that shit you wanted me to remember. Still can't believe I couldn't remember it to begin with, though."

"Well, if you forget life had its good moments, even at its worst, it makes the fight a whole lot easier to give up. But you didn't forget it; you reacting to that crack about your cat proved quite quick you were only trying to forget," said Danny, reclaiming his favourite sofa cushion.

"Which I still can't believe you did. Yes, Robin's scrawny as hell, I get that. But why do you and Jimmy keep picking on me about that point?"

"Suppose because we're a both a bit curious to understand just why some skinny old Tom cat means so much to you, Coop. That crack was an easy way to stir up your passion about him and remember that conversation with Jimmy. Besides, I am puzzled still, you see. You just never struck me as the kind of guy to get so sentimental over a cat," explained Danny.

"Never thought some stupid animal would ever mean anything to me, you're right on that front Danny," admitted Coop as he stared at the sleeping cat on his lap. "I never had a pet growing up on account of Ma's allergies and I never got those women who treated dogs like their kids. Dressing them in sweaters and all. Struck me as kinda nuts, if you wanna to know the truth."

"Yeah, I think that's over the top, myself. Even though the Boss gets a kick out of it with his poodle, I still laugh at him when he's not looking in on me. I hope he isn't now, but oh well if he is!"

"Well, okay, lemme get to the point of what I'm trying to say here, Danny. And listen really good because after I tell you, I never wanna talk about this again," Coop muttered as his face clouded.

"Okay, Coop. Shoot."

"When I got home from Vietnam, I came home alive, but I _felt_ dead. Couldn't flip the light switch back on to normal so to speak. The world rushed on around me, but I still felt stuck back somewhere else. Like I belonged nowhere. Don't get me wrong, I did a good job of bullshitting it; I told Pop's buddies war stories like I missed being over there and seemed to get back in the groove pretty quick by getting on the force, moving out, and throwing myself back into dating. On the surface, I was doing pretty damn good!"

"But nights were a different story; do you know what hell it is Danny to relive the worst moments of your life over and over? When I woke up after the dreams ended up being the only times I felt anything and what I did feel just made me want to blow my brains out. That's why I started drinking so much more than I used to, you know; I do it just to forget it all so I can get a good night's sleep once in a while."

"I'm sorry, Coop, is all I can say, really," Danny whispered as he moved got up and took a seat on Coop's armrest.

Coop grinned slightly. "Yeah, well, I ain't telling you this to gain your pity, Danny. Point is I got used to existing as a blob of nothing, spending my free time in the backyard drinking beer and trying to forget. Then this little bone bag here wanders in and throws a wrench in the works. He looked so skinny and pathetic I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. So, I went into the house and got some leftover burgers and watched him scarf them all down. He wandered away after that and I figured I'd never see him again."

"But what do you know, the next night, right like clockwork, Robin was there again and I ended up feeding him some chicken I'd made that night. We started to get friendly after that and he ended up basically moving in here. What can I say? As last June wore on, he began to make me feel things I never thought I would again. Actually feeling compassion and that sort of shit and I started writing again. And until Jimmy and I got close, Robin was the first close friend I'd had since you died, Danny. So there you go; this damn cat means a lot to me because he helped me feel alive again and I'm scared if something happens to him, I'll forget! Guess that's also why it pisses me off when people say shit about him. It's the truth, corny as it sounds!"

"And that's why you know now what you gotta do, huh?" Danny muttered as an image of Jimmy hit his brain.

"You're right. I know damn well what I gotta do now. I know what my choice is."


	27. The Chink in the Curtain

"So, Coop, what is it you've decided?" asked Danny, tapping his fingers with trepidation even though he knew Coop's answer for certain.

"I gotta go back," whispered Coop, folding and clenching his hands together as Robin began to snore.

"You're sure about that?"

"Course I'm sure! Do you even need to ask?"

Leaning back and tapping his chin, Danny shrugged indifferently. "Well, it wasn't too long ago you were adamant there was nothing left for you down that way. So, I must know why you're changing your tune now."

Coop sighed as he arched his head backwards. "I've realized some stuff, alright."

"Like what?"

"Hell!" Coop muttered under his breath. "You're a nosey bastard, ya know that, Danny?"

"Yeah, I do," Danny admitted as he began cracking his knuckles, causing Coop to wince. "But it goes with the territory and it's a trait I put to good use. So get on with it and tell me why you're sure you're going back."

"Well, during that last little ride you bastards sent me on, I got to hear Jimmy blubber and talking to me and I realized I can't let him destroy himself."

"Destroy himself? He's still alive and kicking, isn't he?" questioned Danny as he gave Coop a hard look.

Coop ground his teeth and clenched a fist onto the armrest. "Shit, that's not what I mean, Danny! I mean I can't let Jimmy end up like me."

"Enlighten me, please."

Clenching his left fist so hard the knuckles turned white, Coop ducked his head. "I told you a few minutes ago, Danny. I told you I didn't ever wanna talk about that again."

"You know damn you still want to talk about it, Coop! You're such a terrible liar that I really must advise you not to pursue a career on the silver screen," said Danny drily as he rested his feet on the coffee table and put his hands behind his head. "And if you're wondering about me saying damn for no reason, it's to make sure I have your attention."

"How the hell would you know when I'm lying? Your magic tricks or whatever notwithstanding?"

Danny shot Coop an appraising look. "When you're interrogating a crook, how do you know when they're lying to you?"

Coop groaned and shook his head. "Hell, Danny, that's easy. I just know when they are!"

"Come on, Coop. I'm not familiar with how you cops operate. Enlighten me some more. Help me understand!"

Coop let out an impatient sigh. "You listen to their tone of voice, what they say, and try to trip them up by contradicting them with the evidence. If that doesn't work, you look for the physical signs. Averted eyes, nervous movements, etcetera, etcetera."

"Bingo! That last bit is how I know when you're lying," explained Danny as he stretched his arms over his head. "You do a good voice job when you lie; you're confident and smooth and I can see why you did so well selling vacuum cleaners. But, you see, Coop, you have this horrible habit of clenching your left fist when you're lying. Which you've done as long as I've known you. Heck, when you told me you had a paper to work on after walking in on me and Hank, you did it then!"

"I didn't!"

"I suggest you look down," replied Danny, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Looking to his left and suddenly aware he was clenching his left hand so hard his fingernails were digging into his skin, Coop let out a muffled, "Bastard!"

"I heard that! So, get on with it, Coop. Me and the Boss both need to be convinced that going back to Earth is really what you want to do. You need to give me a compelling argument!"

"Hey, you're the lawyer! Ain't that your job?" protested Coop as Robin woke up and began stretching across his lap.

"But it's your choice," Danny reminded Coop, refusing to soften his gaze.

"Shit, fine," Coop muttered, clenching his fist as he began searching for the right words. "There's…well, there's a lot of stuff and ugliness I can't protect Jimmy from. I can't hide from him how hard being a queer is; he knows damn well as me what most of the guys I work with want to do to guys like us who choose to live their lives out in the open and I think I might have been asking too much of him to do that. Ya know, suggesting that he leave Eileen to pursue something with me. But, even if we can't be together how I want, I can stop him from knowing what's it's like to feel dead."

"Elaborate, please?"

"Damn it, Danny! You just can't let things be, can you?" muttered Coop as he began to pet Robin absently. "What I mean is I don't ever want Jimmy to be so ashamed of who he is or what he's done that he's already dead years before the physical part stops ticking. Because after being like that for just a few months, I can tell you that if a certain animal and person hadn't come into my life when they did, I'd not be here talking to you now. Because being like that is no fucking way to live. I need to go back and let Jimmy know I forgive him. That what happened after we argued last night wasn't only his fault; it's mine, too. Getting shot, well, that ain't my fault. But I chose to go alone to the bridge. Protocol is you wait for back-up in a situation like that, but I chose not to because I wanted to prove to Jimmy, Pop, and everyone that I could handle everything alone. And, well, I can't. I fucking can't!"

"But, Jimmy told you he'd be okay if you chose to go. You don't believe him?" asked Danny, biting his lip to keep his emotions in check.

"I have no clue why he'd say bullshit like that," Coop admitted, "but I think he was lying and just saying it for my benefit. Whatever that benefit might be."

"I think so, too. But it proves he really loves you, Coop; he wouldn't be giving you permission to go if he didn't. Even though it almost killed him to say it, he just can't stand the thought of you suffering any longer than you have to."

"Well, he might think I can't do this," Coop muttered as he lifted Robin into arms and held him against his chest. "But I've had tough times before and I will get through this. Besides Jimmy, I got this little bastard here and Ma to consider. I can't just take off when I know the hell they'll end up in. Ma, well, she can't rely on Pop for anything. And Robin, no one is gassing him if I have a say in it!"

"You do know if you go back, it'll be a tough road, Coop. Not just mentally, I mean. You're not going to just wake up, hop out of the bed, and pick up life where you left it last night. It'll take a lot of time to get back to that," said Danny as he studied Coop up and down.

"Yeesh, you trying to convince me not to go, or something?"

"No, just making sure you've thought things through," explained Danny. Checking his watch for the time, Danny gave Coop a sharp gaze. "Little while to go before you can head back."

"What? Why not? I'm sure this is what I want!"

"Told you before about the twenty-four hour requirement, Coop. We'll check around then to make sure that's what you still want," said Danny as he got up from the couch and looked towards the window.

Coop sighed. "Great. What do we do till then? Cause I'm all talked out for now and I don't feel like playing poker again."

"How does some mindless entertainment sound? You can get almost every movie and TV show you could ever imagine on that set of yours right now," suggested Danny.

"I noticed that earlier. And I gotta ask why the hell so much shit on there?"

Danny shrugged. "One of Eternity's perks that transmits over here."

Coop raised his eyebrows and looked at Danny with wide eyes.

"What? We need our entertainment, too! Do you think our fun just consists of sitting on clouds and playing harps all day?"

* * *

Tucking in his short-sleeved, white button-down shirt, Jimmy tightened his belt over his jeans before leaving the bathroom. Knowing Serge was cooking the heat, Jimmy took the stairs two at a time and raced for the front door.

"Jimmy, wait!" Eileen called from the living room, Tommy sleeping contently in her arms.

"What is it, Eileen?" Jimmy let out an exhausted sigh and rubbed his temples as the beginnings of a headache began to pound behind his eyes.

"When do you think you'll be home, Jimmy?"

"I honestly don't know. I'm gonna stay over there as long as the Coopers need me there. You know Father Mack is slowing down, Eileen; I'm probably gonna end up driving him home at some point in the next few hours."

"Well," Eileen bit her lip anxiously as she placed Tommy in the bassinette she kept in the living room during the day. "I just want to know what you want me to tell the kids."

Jimmy straightened his hair and crossed his arms. "Probably best to not tell them anything. You know how high-strung Patty is. Just tell them I got to work extra. Or something, I dunno."

Running a finger through Tommy's downy blond hair, Eileen said, "Jimmy, Adam won't buy that. He might be quiet, but he already knows something's wrong. I can tell."

"Alright," Jimmy relented as he sat down on the stairs and began to pull on his black loafers. "If Adam asks, tell him Coop's in the hospital and that I'm helping his parents out. Don't give him too many details; we don't know much about how things will go, anyway. Just don't say a word to Patty. I'll call you if anything changes. I gotta get going, Eileen. Serge is probably cooking out there!"

"Well, then go do what you have to do, Jimmy. I can't stop you when you have your mind set on something. I've never been able to," Eileen muttered to Tommy.

"Alright," Jimmy said uneasily as he grabbed his car keys and went out the front door. Closing the door behind him, Jimmy shook his head. On the way home, he had prepped himself for a long fight with Eileen; anything to do with Coop or leaving the house of late had made the house seem like a warzone and Jimmy knew Adam was beginning to know the warning signs of an eruption on the way, shepherding Patty outside or upstairs before discussions got really heated.

"Hell, this just ain't any way to live," Jimmy muttered as he pulled open his door and took a seat.

"Serge, you ready to head to Coop's place now?" Jimmy asked as he started up the engine.

Turning to Jimmy, Serge rubbed his eyes and stared at Jimmy, as if trying to discern he was really there. "Sure," Serge mumbled as he stared out the windshield.

* * *

Roaring his black 1956 Harley-Davidson into his designated space, Joe's spirit still felt free after his extended drive around Philadelphia. Ever since getting the bike as a graduation gift from his dad, Joe spent every spare second he had driving it. The worn black leather jacket on his back and the wind blowing his wild mop backwards had been the only things Joe was aware of as he had zoomed around town.

"Joey, son! Is that you?" Patrick Malone called down from his third floor balcony, recognizing the familiar roar of the Harley. Though his family had left the tiny Northern Ireland hamlet he had been born in at the age of four for London, Patrick's voice still contained a feathery lilt from his homeland.

"Yeah, it's me!" Joe yelled back as he backed up to see where his dad was.

"Where the hell you been?" Patrick shouted.

"Had to work late…" Joey yelled before trailing off. At Patrick's side was "Uncle" Alex Kowalski, an arm swung around Patrick's shoulders.

"Why's that, son?"

"Damn it!" Joe whispered, turning pale as he saw the spectacle above him. "I'll tell ya when I get up there!" Joe screamed as he broke into a quick trot towards the gray apartment building's lobby.

* * *

"Serge, we're here," said Jimmy for the third time, tapping Serge on the shoulder as hard as he dared as he stood outside Serge's door.

Serge let out a sigh as Coop's white house came into focus. "So we are," Serge mumbled back.

"You gonna come in with me, Serge, or wait out here?"

"No, I'm coming," Serge said dully as he opened to the door and pulled himself onto the cement driveway Coop had finally had fixed up the previous month. Leaving his door open, Serge made his ways towards the front entrance slowly.

Sighing, Jimmy slammed the car, clenching Coop's house keys in his hand.

Coming to the step, Serge let out a loud sigh as he spotted the full milk bottle on the front step, its contents already begin to curd in the hot summer sun. Yet another physical reminder his son had been torn away from him.

Following Serge's gaze, Jimmy made a mental note to call the dairy to stop milk deliveries until further notice. The line from a movie Jimmy couldn't remember echoed in his mind, "Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole."

"Hell!" Jimmy muttered as tears pricked his eyes as he began to fumble with the lock. After months of his lecturing, Coop had finally begun to lock the door when he left the house.

* * *

"Christ, Joey son! What took you so long to get up 'ere?" Patrick asked as Joe slammed the apartment door shut and headed into the kitchen for a bottle of Pepsi.

"I'm tired is all," Joe muttered back, slamming the fridge door shut. After he pulled the lid off and tossed it into the overflowing wastebasket that lived near the kitchen sink, Joe began guzzling down the ice cold fizz that was welcome relief against his hot, dry throat.

Trying to comb his curly blond hair with his hand, Patrick's blue eyes looked at his weary son. "You shoulda called, son. Me and Uncle Alex were worried about you."

"Sorry, Dad. Didn't get the chance. Look, I'm tired and gotta do some overtime tonight. I'm going to bed. If I'm not up by nine, wake me up," Joe muttered, slamming the Pepsi bottle on the counter near the sink and heading for his room.

"Stop," Patrick called, grabbing Joe's wrist and stopping his retreat. "Joey, son, I know you're grown-up now and leaving us soon, but while you live under me roof I'd still like to know that you're okay if you're running late."

Joe sighed as he clenched his fists as he turned to face his dad. "For Christ's sake, Dad! When I'm on the beat, I can't be calling you every five minutes! You knew when I took the job the force was short-staffed and that overtime was gonna be a regular thing! But, if you're gonna lecture me about stuff I can't control, I got a few words for you and Uncle Alex!"

"What for?" Patrick asked, looking puzzled.

"Damn it, Dad, don't play dumb! You know how I feel about you and Uncle Alex making a scene on the balcony like that!"

"Joey son, we weren't doing bloody anything!"

"Sure you were! You were cuddling up with each other plain as day! I ain't blind, Dad!" Joe whispered, looking cautiously to make sure Uncle Alex hadn't heard him.

Patrick sighed as he looked down at the brown shag carpet that covered the hideous pink tile that had been in the kitchen when they'd moved in. "Jesus, son. It's been four years now that Alex and me have been together and you're still ashamed of us, aren't you?"

"Hell, Dad, you…know I ain't…." Joe stammered, his face turning bright red. "But the rest of the world doesn't get this and you got no idea what could happen to you guys if you're too obvious! And each day I'm on the force I'm learning more and more about what those things are! For Christ's sake, do you wanna end up evicted? Or get arrested and get a broken nose?"

Patrick paused a moment, before replying, "Joey, son, have I ever told you about what it was like being in London during the Blitz?"

"Only about a million times, Dad," Joe muttered, annoyed his dad was trying to change the subject. "Look, I'm not gonna argue with you. I need some sleep. You two need to be more careful in public is what I'm trying to tell you!"

"Son, before you go, let me tell you something," said Patrick quietly as he took a seat at the kitchen table. "During most of the war, our lives were shrouded in fear. We never knew when the next raid would be or when we would have to head for the Tube to sleep. Even at night in our own homes, our lives were hidden behind closed curtains; every window had to be covered for the blackout so not even one chink of light showed. When the lights went on again, it was a marvellous site."

"I'm sure it was, Dad," Joe mumbled as he pulled off his leather jacket and threw it on a peg near the front door.

"Well, when your mom died, Joey, the blackout hit me once again and Uncle Alex has turned the lights back on for me. Before your mom passed, she wanted me to know that she was okay with me finding love again. That when I was ready that she wanted me to find someone to spend the rest of me life with."

"Hell, I know that, Dad! And I'm happy for the both of you, really. So I don't get why the hell you two risk it all like this!"

"Because, Joey, son, I've spent enough of me life behind closed curtains and being afraid."

"Hell!" Joe said under his breath as he headed for his bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Climbing into his narrow bed, Joe pulled off his T-shirt and threw it to the floor as he whispered, "Why can't that stubborn prick ever try to get my point of view?"

* * *

"You see this picture of us, Jimmy? This was just before Coop went away to war. God, his mother and I were so proud of him," Serge whispered as he plopped himself down on the couch in Coop's living room. The May 1965 portrait of himself, Elizabeth, and Coop trembled in his hands. Dressed in an elegant yellow dress, Elizabeth was seated between Coop and Serge, each one with a hand on her shoulder. Serge and Coop both wore their respective dress uniforms and Coop's smiling, open face stared straight into the camera like he could never die.

"Yeah, I've seen it before, Serge," Jimmy whispered back, averting his eyes from Coop's unmarked face. "Do you wanna help me find stuff to take back to the hospital?"

"You know Coop better than me, Jimmy. All I know is I'm taking this…" Serge muttered before trailing off, continuing to stare at the portrait.

"Sure, Serge. I won't be long," Jimmy called as he headed to the kitchen to leave food for Robin. Not seeing the cat didn't worry Jimmy; Robin was probably off hiding or hunting somewhere.

* * *

The kibble poured with no sign of the cat, Jimmy wrestled open the cellar door and descended down the steps. The bronchitis Coop had battled a couple weeks previous gone, Jimmy was certain where Coop's scant alone free-time was once again being spent.

Sighing as his reservations proved true, Jimmy spotted a green clothed covered book resting haphazardly on Coop's makeshift cardboard side table. He knew exactly what the book contained.

* * *

" _How the hell can you read and understand this shit, Coop?" Jimmy had asked, as he tried to make sense of a Wordsworth poem entitled "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud."_

_Coop stopped shuffling the cards for their poker game. "Because there's a lot of beautiful imagery and shit in there, that's why!"_

" _Well, how the hell am I supposed to get that when the bastard can't just say what he means?" Jimmy protested as he tried to remember what "pensive" meant."_

_Coop rolled his eyes. "Jimmy, that was written over a hundred years ago. You think he wrote and talked like we do?"_

" _Well, no," Jimmy admitted as he closed the book. "But I still don't get why he can't just say a flower looks good instead of going on for almost two pages about it!"_

" _To remind you of something very obvious, Jimmy."_

" _And what the hell would that be, Coop?" asked Jimmy as he let out a frustrated sigh as he closed the book and placed it over the pile of quarters he had brought to gamble with._

" _Because, it makes you think and remember there's a different sort of life beyond what we see. It ain't all asphalt and concrete and people shooting each other. Outside of Philly and what we do, there's a lot of different things."_

_Jimmy sighed as thoughts of lost opportunities were remembered. How he'd turned down his shot to study engineering when he graduated because a job as a construction labourer paid too well to turn down. When that had gone bust when he now had a wife and a kid to support, Jimmy had grasped at the quickest straw that would offer him an income instead of taking it as a sign to try something else. It wasn't that Jimmy hated the force; putting away the scumbags gave him a sense of satisfaction, but all the late nights and missed family moments wore on him._

" _Well, I hope my kids break out and get to live a different kind of life than we are," Jimmy had mumbled, trailing off as his and Coop's poker game had begun in silence._

* * *

"Coop would want this, I guess," Jimmy thought aloud as he picked up the book and began heading back upstairs. "The other things I gotta get are easy: those tattered old copies of _Macbeth_ and _Gone with the Wind_ he won't replace and mean the damn world to him. Still don't get how he can be so sentimental about books. Hell, he refused to loan either copy to me. I don't get it. And then there's that stupid picture that almost made him punch me in the face that time."

* * *

" _Man, those musta been good times!" Jimmy had called out as he continued to leaf through the photo album Coop had offered him after pumping him for more details on college baseball._

" _It was fun," Coop admitted as he looked over pictures of old Penn practices and games at Harvard and Cornell. "But I don't miss early morning practices and scrambling to get my homework done. It's nice to actually have something to live for besides school and baseball."_

" _But, hell man! The chicks you were with, the places you went! I'd give anything to have done that! Hey, who are the guys in this picture with you? One of them looks familiar."_

" _Guy beside me is David Aarons. I'm sure you've heard of him. He plays for the Cubs now and is their hotshot second baseman."_

" _Ha, and I thought you didn't keep up with baseball anymore!"_

" _I was bored one day waiting for you to finish yapping with McCree and read the sport-section Murphy left all over the locker room. Found out then," Coop muttered. Jimmy knew he hated to talk about baseball and Coop hated it when it was the only sport going on._

" _So, who's this other guy?" Jimmy asked, changing the subject._

_Spotting Danny's face, Coop's face had clouded as he had tapped a finger against the glossy black-and-white surface._

_Balling up a fist, Coop had glared hard at Jimmy. "I don't remember! And if you're done with that thing, let's get started on watching TV!" Coop snapped as he had pulled the album out of Jimmy hands and tossed it onto the coffee table before stalking to the den and switching on the TV._

* * *

"Just who the hell was this guy?" Jimmy thought as he pulled the photo out and placed it in the Wordsworth book so it wouldn't crease.

Sighing at knowing there were other secrets besides Vietnam Coop had hidden from him, Jimmy got to his feet slowly after shoving the cardboard box of photos back onto the bookshelf. "Serge, you ready to head out now? Think I got everything."

Still staring at the photo, Serge merely nodded as he got to his feet and clasped the picture underneath his arm. Looking over at Jimmy, Serge paled when he saw _Macbeth._ "Where the hell did you get that book, Jimmy?"

"Coop's desk, Serge. Here, take it if you want."

Looking at _Macbeth's_ faded blue cover, a slight smile came to Serge's face. "I was right. This was my dad's once and I'd recognize it anywhere. It was his favourite."

"It was?" asked Jimmy in surprise.

"Yeah. When Coop was small, my mom used to watch him all the time and my dad would read this to him when he got home from the factory. Coop kept it after my dad died. But that was over ten years ago, so I had no idea Coop still had it."

"Uh, well, I didn't know about that," stammered Jimmy. "I just knew it was a favourite book of his. That's all. And Elizabeth said favourite stuff, so…"

Serge sighed as he handed the book back to Jimmy. He could feel the iron lead weighing his tongue down release and fall to the ground. "You two have gotten close, huh?"

"Well, yeah, Serge. We're partners and all so, yeah, we talk a lot. You know how it is. All you can rely on out there on the street is yourself and the guy seated beside you."

Serge bit his tongue as he and Jimmy began to head outside. As Jimmy shut the door and began to lock it, Serge asked, "But you guys, Jimmy, you've gotten closer than just being partners. Haven't you?"

Jimmy finished locking the door and turned to face Serge as his heart began to race. "Coop's become my best friend, Serge, yeah. We spend so much time together day in and day out it was bound to happen at some point if we weren't gonna drive each other crazy. And I want you to know I'd do anything to help him and you guys out. I'm sorry, but I don't know what else to say."

Serge fell quiet as he and Jimmy headed for Jimmy's car. "I don't expect you to say anything, Jimmy. What the hell is there you can say that will help me? Nothing. I've lost my boy. Some bastard killed him and sent him somewhere where we'll never reach him. And I'm starting to realize how little I really knew him and I've lost my chance to do that."

Feeling guilty over what he had told Coop he was free to do back at the hospital, Jimmy looked down as he gripped Serge's shoulder. "Serge, you can't think like that. Please don't give up on him. Coop's still got plenty of fight left in him."

His mouth going dry, Serge leaned against Jimmy's car. "What fight, Jimmy? He's got a machine breathing for him and by all accounts should have died at the scene. You heard what that doctor said last night; if Coop survives, his life won't be worth living and the thought of him wasting away as a vegetable somewhere is something I don't even wanna think about. Just what the hell does he got to fight for?"

"I dunno, Serge," Jimmy began, sighing as he remembered turning away and leaving Coop in the dust because he had been afraid that the world might have learned his darkest secret. "It's just a feeling I got. Coop's brave and doesn't back down from stuff…even when it's hard. I just can't see why this would be any different."

"Maybe." The heavy cross he had born since casting his son out of his life like a leper bore once more on Serge's broad shoulders and he felt himself sink into the leather upholstery of Jimmy's car like a heavy sack of potatoes.

"God, I didn't know what I was saying to you at the church, Coop. Why couldn't you have just given me a chance to explain afterwards?" Serge thought as held the family portrait between two hands, his shoulders slumping forward.

Turning his head away from the tormented man seated next to him, Jimmy stuck his keys in the ignition as his own thoughts began to race. "Christ, Coop. Forget anything I said about giving up. I was lying. We won't be okay if you take off," Jimmy prayed silently as he revved up the engine and pulled the car out onto the road, prepping for the trek back to Penn General.

* * *

"My God, what are you doing to my son?" Elizabeth cried from the chair at the foot of Coop's bed as she saw Dr. Tomlinson putting hard pressure on the skin above Coop's eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Cooper. We had no idea you were awake," Dr. Tomlinson said as she took her hands off Coop's head.

"Dr. Tomlinson, can you please came to room six immediately?" Donna called as she flew into the room, rousing Father Mack from his nap. "Mrs. Jamison's blood pressure is low!"

"Marie, can you please stay here?" Dr. Tomlinson called, dropping her clipboard on the floor as she raced out of the room, Donna ahead of her.

"Sure," Nurse Taylor said, having no idea if Dr. Tomlinson had heard. With a sigh, Nurse Taylor retrieved the fallen clipboard and placed it back in the holder on the foot of Coop's bed.

"What's going on?" Father Mack asked, looking from Elizabeth to the nurse in confusion.

"Dr. Tomlinson and I were preforming the vitals check and Mrs. Cooper woke up in the middle of it. She was asleep when we started, so she is understandably upset by the last test we were doing."

Narrowing his eyes, Father Mack turned to Elizabeth for an explanation.

Clenching a blue blanket across her lap, Elizabeth didn't say a word, still feeling sickened from what she'd seen.

Nurse Taylor swallowed as she pulled a seat and sat beside Elizabeth. "I know it's a hard test for y'all to watch, but that particular test of putting hard pressure over a patient's orbits is to help assess if a patient is coming out of a coma. It gives us an idea if it is ending. With Sean being on the vent and heavily sedated, though, it's hard to tell when there's a response to this test."

"So, that means he didn't feel anything, then?" whispered Elizabeth as tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Well, we can never be totally sure, but probably not between the sedation and the morphine."

* * *

"Is that pain gone yet, Coop?" Danny asked worriedly as Coop slumped forward and continued to groan. Watching _Rear Window,_ Coop had yelped in pain just as Jimmy Stewart had begun to spy on his neighbours with his binoculars.

"I think so," Coop muttered, straightening back up. "What the hell are they doing to me down there, Danny?"

Danny sighed as he stared at the flickering screen. "No idea. Deborah was going to be the doctor and me the lawyer."

"Well, when I get back down there, there will be more than a few black eyes and busted shins!" Coop declared as he gave the headrest behind him a good whack.

"For Pete's sake, Coop! They're just trying to help you!" Danny retorted, shaking his head.

Coop snorted as he scuffed his foot along the carpet. "Yeah, pounding me on the head and shoving nails through my foot is really helping me, Danny!"

"Like I said, I'm not a doctor! It must have some purpose!"

"Maybe." Coop sighed as he began to lose interest in the movie. "That's how I knew Jimmy was the real deal."

"What do you mean?" asked Danny, turning away from the movie. For some reason, _Rear Window_ didn't seem quite the masterpiece he remembered.

"Everything I do and say to him has a reason. When I was with chicks, the only purpose behind anything was to convince myself I wasn't a queer. It was a one sided show. I went through the drinks, talking, and sex, but it meant nothing to me. Even though I kept wishing it had. With Jimmy, it's different. Even when we don't do anything except talk, God, it means everything and I don't give a damn about what I am during those times."

"Yup, you got a terrible case," said Danny sadly as he put a hand on Coop's forehead.

"A bad case of what?" Coop demanded, tugging Danny's hand off of him.

"Love."

"No shit," Coop muttered as he let out a sigh. "I guess you won your case, Danny. I mean, since I'm heading back down there and all."

"Maybe," Danny shrugged as he got up and switched off the TV. "But this whole thing had nothing to do with that. If I've helped you realize you can be happy again, then that's all that matters to me."

"I'm scared to go back, though," Coop admitted as the room fell silent from Jimmy Stewart's spying.

"That's normal."

"I hate not knowing what's gonna happen!"

"Well, don't stress too much about that now. You're not even there yet! You won't be thrown in the deep end without your lifejacket. Promise," said Danny as he began rocking on his feet.

"How can you be so sure, Danny?" Coop whispered as Robin crept into the room. "You said you're new to this whole thing and there's sure a lot of shit you didn't know about! How do you know about this stuff?"

"You'll find out when the time's right, Coop," replied Danny as he began looking through his tiny rulebook. "All I can say right now is that you'll have a pass on the nightmares for a while."

"Damn it! I hate it when you're cryptic like that! There should be a Danny-English dictionary!" Coop muttered as Robin claimed Danny's seat.

"What and not get my revenge for you almost sucker punching me earlier? No way!"

"Just switch the TV back on, Danny," Coop muttered as Robin began to purr, fresh anxiety over his upcoming ride already forming.


	28. The Lights Go On Again

"Alright," Danny replied, shrugging his shoulders as he stole a seat at Coop's desk. "We can watch TV. You do look pretty worn out though, Coop. Why don't you take a nap or something and get some rest?"

The anxiety left Coop's face as he shook his head fiercely. "No way in hell I'm doing that!"

Danny sighed. "Look, I know sleep hasn't been the most pleasant of experiences for you lately…"

A loud chuckle cut Danny off. "Once again, that's putting it pretty mildly, Danny. Don't you think?"

"In this instance...probably," Danny acknowledged.

"I ain't risking anything else until I get back down there. If this is a dream, well, I ain't chancing a dream within a dream," Coop mumbled, leaning forward. Spotting a penny laying on top of _TV Guide_ , Coop began spinning it on the coffee table.

Danny's brow furrowed as he tried to remember the one psychology course that he had taken eight years before. "Well, Coop, this isn't a dream, though the dynamics and set-up are similar when I think about it. But is it even possible to have a dream within a dream? I can't see how."

"It sure as hell is," Coop muttered as he flicked the penny into the hallway like he was shooting a marble. "That night before Jimmy and I…well, that night I lost control of everything, I had one. I dreamt I woke up in the cellar and I remember I couldn't figure out why I was down there. It wasn't that hot yet, so I was still sleeping in my room most of the time. So, I headed up the steps to go to bed or do whatever. But, before I could make it up halfway, this loud barrage of bullets knocked me back and this Vietcong guy covered in blood from head to toe came charging down the stairs, wielding a machine gun at my head, screaming he was gonna kill me like I had him."

Danny's mouth went dry as cotton as he watched Coop go pale and his hands start to shake slightly.

"At least," Coop conceded as remembering the dream began to loosen its hold, "I think he was saying he was gonna kill me. He was yelling at me in Vietnamese, which I don't speak a word of anymore. I have no use for it these days."

Danny let out a loud sigh, at a loss for words. "I wish I knew what to say."

Coop shrugged as Robin giving him a head butt on his leg summoned him back to the present. "Nothing much you can say, is there, Danny? Guess I'm wondering is do you get now why I think I'm nuts and that I'd get locked up somewhere if anyone else besides Jimmy and you found out about these things?"

"On the contrary, Coop, not having any sort of reaction to these sorts of things at all is, to me anyways, the very definition of insanity," Danny countered.

Coop let out a snort as Robin began to settle himself on his lap. "The other guys I served with sure as hell must be nuts then. Not sure what you know 'bout my buddy Allan, but he's got his shit together, that's for sure."

"Ever think that maybe he figures the same about you and doesn't want to chance telling you what he experiences?"

"I dunno," Coop mumbled, averting his gaze to the coffee table. "Wherever the hell we are, I ain't chancing going through any of those…dreams."

"Hey, I promised you that you will have a pass on the dreams for a while and that you'll find out why when the time's right. Don't you believe me?" asked Danny, spinning the chair around and around.

Coop had to laugh in spite of himself at Danny acting like a third grader. The charming, little boy of Penn all the girls had had a soft spot for was never far from the surface of the polished lawyer. "I want to, Danny. I really do. But you mind if we talk about something else?"

"Sure, we have time to kill."

Coop raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, bad choice of words," Danny admitted, his face turning redder than the tie he was now putting back on. "It's just after a few years in Eternity you get pretty mellow about death and its puns. But, anyways, do you have a topic in mind that you want to talk about?"

Coop swallowed and winced as Robin stretched and dug a claw into his thigh. "I've always sorta wondered…when and how did you find out you were…uh…."

"Gay?"

"Yeah, that," Coop mumbled, shaking his head at the strange term.

"You don't need to feel embarrassed about asking me, Coop. It's a simple answer. It was the boys in high school."

"What about them?"

Danny shrugged. "When I turned fifteen, I started finding them attractive. Didn't take long for me to figure out that I was an open and shut case of homosexuality."

Coop sighed. "Ya know, I bullshitted to Jimmy that I'd accepted it all. But it's one of the biggest lies I've ever told anyone. When I told him I was afraid too, that was also a lie. I'm actually terrified."

"Society is unfortunately way behind guys like us," said Danny drily as he got up and opened the window to let some fresh air into the den. "If they wouldn't force us to hide and would just realize we're normal folks they've dealt with thousands of times without harm then maybe things would change."

Coop leaned back and wrapped his hands around Robin's narrow frame. "You really think that's going to happen someday, don't you, Danny?"

"Well, society _does_ evolve, Coop, so I hope so. I mean, a hundred years ago a lot of our fellow men thought it was their ordained right to chain and enslave a whole group of people just because of the colour of their skin. Now, people realize we're all equal regardless of that," said Danny. But then he quickly reconsidered the civil rights marches he had felt disgusted were even necessary for the suppressed to get their points across. "Well, at least a good proportion of society at large does."

"Let's just watch TV, Danny," Coop mumbled, before Danny could delve deeper into history.

Danny headed to the TV. "Sure. Want to keep watching _Rear Window_ or something else?"

"Well, we've probably missed most of that movie by now…"

Switching the TV back on, Danny shrugged as he dropped into the seat next to Coop. "Nope, it's paused and waiting for us."

Coop's eyes widened as he saw the movie frozen. "What the…"

A wide smile spread across Danny's face. "Eternity is a bustling place and, with the work I do, I'm a busy man. The Boss had to figure out some way for us not to keep missing our favourite shows."

"Well, thanks for sparing the time for me, then," Coop muttered as the movie began to play again. "And I'm sorry I've made things so…difficult for you."

"Look, don't be sorry. It's been a treat seeing you again, though of course I do wish it were under better circumstances. And don't feel bad for arguing and getting upset with me. If people are ever going to move forward in life, you have to question and challenge the status quo. That's one trait you should never lose."

This time, Coop didn't stop the pleased grin from coming out.

* * *

Nearing Penn General once more, Jimmy took another quick peek at Serge. _Macbeth_ was now the object of Serge's fixation.

"You and Coop sure both love that old book, Serge. I sure as hell couldn't make any sense of it when they made us read it in high school," said Jimmy as he stopped at a red light.

Serge sighed. "You kidding, Jimmy? I don't get this book either. My dad kept trying, but gave up on me when I was about ten. He accepted then I wasn't gonna be smart and love books like he did."

"Oh, I see." How, in Coop of all people, a love of literature had been kindled began to make sense to Jimmy.

Serge began staring out his window, speaking to himself more than to Jimmy. "That's why Dad was so excited Coop took after his mother that way. He was so happy to have someone in his life who got how he thought. Lizzie and Coop have always been quick and sharp. Dad was a teacher in Ireland before he moved us over here, but it paid so little here he took a factory job. This damn book and the others he always kept around are what kept him sane around the morons he worked with, he said. He told Coop to use the brains God gave him and not end up toiling away like him, but I kept badgering him to join the force. And look at where he is now. No ifs about it, is there? _I_ killed my boy."

Jimmy swallowed as the hospital came into his field of vision. "You're wrong, Serge. _I_ killed him, not you," Jimmy thought, biting his tongue before telling Serge, "Coop's gonna be fine, Serge. Just you wait and see. He's gonna be okay."

"You heard what that doctor said, Jimmy. I'm just accepting reality."

Pulling into the hospital parking, Jimmy sighed as Serge spoke his worst fear out loud. "Well, I'm clinging to the hope Coop is still himself and not giving a damn what any doctor is saying about him..." Jimmy thought as he drifted away into his own mind.

* * *

Dr. Tomlinson's mouth dropped open when she spotted Dr. Buchanan's hunched, haggard form at the triage desk. "Herb! What in the world are you doing here?"

Dr. Buchanan pushed up his reading glasses. "You didn't hear, Jill? Oliver's mother died and he's on a plane to Seattle to arrange her funeral. I'm here to cover his ICU shift."

Dr. Tomlinson shook her head in disbelief, even though they had all known Janet Baxter's death was imminent. "The poor guy. But, are you sure that _you are_ up to being here, Herb? You had a rough night last night."

"Speaking of which, how's Sean Cooper doing, Jill?"

"Well, he's made it through to now with no complications," said Dr. Tomlinson, noting the surprise and relief on Dr. Buchanan's face. "I've had Donna stop the sedation and start weaning the ventilator. If all goes to plan, Sean should be off it any time now. Up to this point, all the tests neurologically have been good. The chest tubes also haven't drained anything more, so I figure we can go ahead and pull the left one."

Dr. Buchanan shook his head, glad his shift was starting with good news. "I was thinking about that after I went home and I want to leave both chest tubes in at least 'til tomorrow morning, Jill. Sean's left side was a mess and I don't want to chance anything. We'll take him down to X-ray tomorrow morning, make sure the lungs looks good, and pull the left tube out after. It'll also give us a chance to make sure that clavicle is set properly. I do agree one hundred percent about the ventilator, though. Sean's got a high enough risk of sepsis without adding pneumonia to the mix. Has his father shown up yet? When I told him the news last night he didn't take it well and took off."

"Mr. Cooper? Yes, he was here. Briefly, that is. The two policemen who were here, he left when they did and that was a few hours ago. He ha not seen his son yet, even though I suggested he should."

"Well, Jill, we all handle this sort of thing differently. When he does turn up and Sean's off the vent, we need to get him and Mrs. Cooper into the conference room. To discuss the potential long-term outcomes and see just how much intervention they are willing to have done for Sean."

Jill hesitated as she began twirling a pen between her fingers. "Don't you think it's a bit early yet for that, Herb?"

Dr. Buchanan took off his glasses and stuffed them into his coat pocket. "Jill, I think it's best to prepare them sooner rather than later. Though, I will be honest and tell you this is one of the few times I no longer have a sense of what is going to happen. If that young man followed the textbooks, he'd be in the morgue right now. Definitely not in that room across the hall. I have no idea what is going on here and I told his parents as much last night that there's no medical explanation…" Dr. Buchanan trailed off as he spotted Jimmy and Serge come out of the elevator.

"You sure you don't want me to hold those things, Serge? They're pretty hot."

Serge glanced down at the two large styrofoam containers of beef broth he and Jimmy had grabbed from the hospital cafeteria. "I got 'em, Jimmy."

Jimmy sighed as he tightened his grip around the small stack of books, making sure the family portrait was secured at the bottom.

"Speak of the devil," Dr. Buchanan thought. "Mr. Cooper?"

Serge looked up and blanched as he recognized Dr. Buchanan. "Hi, doc."

Studying the exhausted man, Dr. Buchanan offered his free hand. "I'm glad to see you have found your way back to us."

"Yeah, sorry about that…" Serge mumbled, tucking one container into the crook of his arm so he could return Dr. Buchanan's handshake.

"So, how's Coop doing?" Jimmy asked as Dr. Tomlinson joined the group.

"Well, no major changes. We've stopped the sedation and hope to have Sean off the ventilator any time now."

"So, will he be okay?"

"Well, I'm afraid it is still too soon to say for sure," said Dr. Buchanan, tugging his at his bushy mustache. "But Sean's made it almost eighteen hours since surgery. Him hanging on this long gives me hope."

"Hope of what? That Coop'll rot away as a vegetable for years rather than die?" Serge mumbled as he placed the soup containers on the triage desk.

Dr. Tomlinson and Dr. Buchanan exchanged glances as Dr. Tomlinson offered, "Everything at this point is heading in a positive direction, Mr. Cooper."

Serge sniffed. "Yours and my definitions of positive are nowhere near the same, doctor. Can I go see my son now?"

"Of course, right this way!"

* * *

"Jimmy! You're back!" whispered Elizabeth, getting up from her seat by Coop's bed as quietly as she could so as not to wake Father Mack.

"Yeah, Serge and me are back," Jimmy confirmed as he offered the books and portrait to Elizabeth. We grabbed some soup from downstairs in case you guys are hungry."

Shooting Serge a cold glance, Elizabeth shook her head. "No. Appreciate the thought, though."

Placing the containers on a table cluttered with paper cups and an empty water pitcher, Serge spotted and headed for an empty seat in the far corner of the room, hoping to get away from Elizabeth's piercing gaze. The look she shot him mirrored in every way the last glance his son had given him before spitting in his face. Closing his eyes and trying to shut out the room, Serge tried to convince himself this was one, big nightmare as he escaped into an uneasy sleep.

"I didn't get anything much from his place," Jimmy stammered as Elizabeth stared at the books. "Just a few books I know he likes."

"It's fine, Jimmy. Sean's always been a big reader so your job wouldn't have been easy," Elizabeth murmured as she opened up the book of Wordsworth poetry she didn't remember seeing before. Spotting the baseball photo inside the cover, Elizabeth winced as if someone had struck her.

Jimmy stomach churned as he noticed Elizabeth's face draining. "You okay, Mrs. Coop—I mean, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth nodded slightly, grabbing the photo as she placed the books and family photo on the crowded table. "I'm fine, Jimmy. But could you please step into the hallway with me for a second?"

"Sure," said Jimmy, his face flooded with confusion as he saw Elizabeth grasping the baseball photo between two shaking fingers.

Out of the room and sure they were not within earshot of Coop, Elizabeth continued to stare the photo. "Where did you get this photo, Jimmy?"

Jimmy scratched his head. "Out of a photo album Coop showed me once. I dunno what it was, but something told me this photo meant a lot to him. Maybe because that one buddy of his in it's some huge star with the Cubs now?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Has Sean told you much about when he played baseball at Penn, Jimmy?"

"Nah, nothin' much," Jimmy admitted, feeling his face flush. "Coop hates to talk about baseball."

"So, that hasn't changed," Elizabeth mumbled as she looked at Danny's face sadly.

* * *

_Wednesday September 30, 1964 now always stood out in Elizabeth's mind because it had been the first day that that September had truly experienced its first bite of fall._

_Thud! Thud! Thud!_

_Though she recognized the thudding as a baseball bouncing off of Coop's closet door, Elizabeth's mind swirled with confusion. Coop never came home during the week once college started up._

" _Sean, what on earth are you doing here?" asked Elizabeth, struggling to gather her hair into a bun as she poked her head into Coop's bedroom. Lined with posters of Lou Gehrig and dozens of Phillies and Penn pennants, Coop's room had changed little over the years._

_Coop dropped his baseball and glove to the floor as he sat up and stared as his mother with red-rimmed eyes, his normally slicked back hair sticking up in disheveled tufts. "Sorry to startle you, Ma. I just had to get somewhere I could be alone for a while. I didn't think you'd be home this time of the day. Pop here, too?"_

_Elizabeth shook her head as she took a seat at the foot of Coop's bed and felt her heart skip a couple beats at Coop's odd question. "No, Sean. He's working."_

" _Good," Coop muttered._

" _Sean, I thought you had classes today since the team got back this morning. How was New York? Your father's really sorry he couldn't make the game. Something came up at work, but you know all about how that happens. That's why I keep telling you not to even think of becoming a policeman; you'll end up married to your job!_ _"_

_Coop got up from his bed and stared out the window, not answering his mother._

_Elizabeth got up and pulled Coop around by the waist so he was forced to look at her. "Sean, sweetheart, what's wrong? Please don't tell me nothing is, because I know there is."_

_Coop began shaking his head and his eyes began to glisten. "Danny's dead, Ma. I just found out a few hours ago."_

" _What? Danny? Oh, God!" Elizabeth had gasped as she had begun shaking and embraced her son without a further word._

* * *

"What do you mean that hasn't changed?"

Elizabeth grabbed a seat and looked up at Jimmy. "Well, I brought us out here so Sean can't hear us talking about this. The doctor told us earlier Sean might be able to hear us and to keep anything we say in that room positive. Did Sean ever tell you Jimmy he almost became a professional baseball player?"

"He did," Jimmy confirmed, leaning against the wall and scratching at his stitches. "But he said he didn't want to be one in the end because he was sick of it and wanted to try something else."

Elizabeth sighed. "That's not exactly what happened, Jimmy. From the time Sean was seven, baseball was his whole life and that's all he ever wanted to do. Make it big and buy us a big house so his dad wouldn't have to work long nights anymore. But anyway, when Sean was on the Penn team, he was very close friends with a fellow named Danny. They were roommates during away games and Danny sort of took Sean under his wing and helped him adjust to college. He's the other boy in this picture. Danny was a terrific person and he and Sean went on double dates and hung out when they managed to find the time. But during Sean's last semester on the team, Danny was murdered."

Jimmy felt his blood turn to ice. "What? How?"

"No one knows exactly what happened. They found him beaten to death outside a bar in Queen's Village and never caught anyone. Well, after Danny passed away, Sean changed. He never said a word about it to me after the day he told me had Danny died, but I just got a sense it had something to do with the choices he made next. He…didn't love the game anymore and changed all of his career plans. Then the draft came and changed those on him, too."

Jimmy swallowed, his face burning with shame that he'd thought bringing this picture was a good idea. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I didn't know. Honest!"

Elizabeth gave Jimmy a tender look. "It's okay, Jimmy. Sean's…never been the type of person to share these sorts of things about himself with other people. He prefers to bury things and move on with life. I can only imagine how much about himself he's never shared with me, even. I'll just hang onto this photo and we'll keep quiet about this." Elizabeth carefully tucked the photo away into the pocket of her skirt.

"So, that's why Coop got so angry about me mentioning Queen's Village to him that time," Jimmy thought as he scrambled for a way to change the subject. "On that burying stuff front...I uh…just wanna say something about Serge, Elizabeth. About how he's acting, I mean. I uh…want you to know we did some talking when we were away from here and he's really torn up about Coop. He's just doing a horrible job of showing it right now."

Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief, signalling to Jimmy that was the end of the conversation as she offered her arm for him to escort her back into Coop's room. She and Brogan had been husband and wife in name only for over ten years and hadn't shown any positive emotions towards each other in over twelve. But it didn't matter; being Coop's only parent was a role she was well accustomed to.

* * *

"How late are you working, son?" Patrick Malone asked as he spotted Joe getting ready to leave the apartment at 10pm.

"As long as they need me, I guess," Joe muttered, cramming into a duffel bag the last bit of the neatly pressed uniform he had found hanging on the back of his door. The uniform made Joe feel ashamed about his earlier tirade at his dad about Uncle Alex. Retired from the air force after twenty years, Uncle Alex had brought some much needed domestic organization back into their lives. The light sparkling again in his dad's eyes was a sight Joe never grew tired of.

"Before you go, Joey son, I just want to say I'm sorry for houndin' you earlier. I know you're…a man now. It's just, you're the only blood I got left. I just can't stand the thought of somethin' happening to you out there!"

Joe looked down guiltily. Ever since he'd joined the force, his dad had once again started talking about his mother and the sister who had died of polio before he had even been born incessantly. He hated knowing he'd been the one to cause his father's emotional upheaval.

Joe gave his dad a punch on the shoulder. "Forget it, Dad. And you don't have to worry tonight; they're just having me do some paperwork. I ain't on the beat."

* * *

Elizabeth had been so shocked when Serge had slipped her hand into hers as they followed Dr. Tomlinson and Dr. Buchanan to a conference room that she hadn't been able to instruct her arm to bat it away. Her head pounded and she was desperate to get back to Coop's room. She began to regret she hadn't woken up Father Mack to join them in the conference.

"Thanks for coming with us, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper," began Dr. Tomlinson, offer two paper cups of water towards Elizabeth and Serge. "As you both know, we're very pleased with Sean's progress tonight; being off the ventilator and breathing on his own is a huge step."

Serge looked down, studying the grain of the pinewood table.

Elizabeth swallowed as she stared from doctor to doctor. "So, what happens next? When can we bring Sean home?"

Dr. Buchanan began drumming his fingers on the table. "Sean still has a very long recovery process ahead of him, Mrs. Cooper, which we're not sure how long will be."

"Well, in other cases like this, how long has it been?"

Dr. Tomlinson cleared her throat. "Well, each situation is so unique, so it's very difficult to compare Sean to other patients…"

Serge raised his head and slammed a fist onto the table. "Just spare the details and get to the truth, would you? Coop's case is hopeless, right? That's bloody well what you told us last night!"

"Last night, we were in a different place entirely," began Dr. Buchanan, trying to keep his voice even. "Sean had lost a lot of blood and had just gotten out of a very long, difficult surgery and, until things settled down from that, it was very difficult to be sure which direction he was going to take. As a physician, it's my duty to be candid and forthright with you, not to give you false hope."

Serge let out a snort of contempt as he let go of Elizabeth's limp hand and crossed his arms. "You also sure as hell don't have kids or have been in our shoes, have you, doc?"

"Quite the opposite, actually, Mr. Cooper. I have boy of my own about Sean's age and we had a major scare with him a few years back. He got a bad case of pneumonia and scared us out of our wits. My own colleagues wouldn't tell my wife or myself a thing until they knew what the outcome of Barry's situation was to be and it was a horrible place to be. Not having any information, I mean. And this was as a doctor who is familiar with these things. I promised myself after that I'd always make sure any parents I dealt with got the information as I obtained it, in order to be prepared. What if I had told you Sean was going to be fine and he wasn't here with us now? What would that say about the integrity of me, my colleagues, and this hospital?"

Serge sighed as he saw the doctor's point. His hand drifted back to Elizabeth's lap and he was too tired to notice her putting her hand over his.

"I think we know what you're saying, doctor," Elizabeth answered, nodding her head in understanding. "So, what happens from here, then? Besides just sitting and waiting to see if Sean will wake up."

"Sean's not out of the woods yet by any means," said Dr. Tomlinson. "So, short-term, we will still be keeping a close eye on him in the ICU. Right now, the biggest risk to his life is infection; a spleen injury and chest wounds are dangerous and that is the most important thing we will be monitoring right now. Dr. Buchanan wants to also make sure there's no more fluid or blood coming from Sean's chest, to make sure all of the damage has been repaired properly. That's why we have elected to keep the chest tubes in at least another day. We also need your consent to allow for the insertion of an NG tube."

"What the hell is that?" Serge asked dully, becoming fixated on one knot in particular on the table.

"A nasogastric tube—an NG tube—is a way of providing a patient with nutrition until they are able to eat again," Dr. Buchanan explained. "It's a long, flexible plastic tube we will insert through Sean's nose and into his stomach."

Elizabeth fought the urge to gag at the thought of more harsh medical technology being shoved into her boy. "Is there no other way?"

"There are other methods of supplementary nutrition," Dr. Tomlinson admitted as she began rubbing her eyes. "But Sean's not really in a place for either of them. One method is IV nutrition, but it is a highly experimental method and only used in extreme cases when a patient's digestive system does not work at all. It also requires surgical placement of a permanent IV line into the chest that carries a high risk of infection; with Sean's injuries and already high infection risk, it is not a gamble we are willing to take."

"And the other method?"

"The other method is the insertion of a permanent feeding tube through a patient's abdominal wall and into the stomach," explained Dr. Buchanan as he began to clean his reading glasses. But we usually only do that when it's clear such a device is needed permanently."

Serge took a loud gulp of water. "And when would that happen?"

"As you already know, there is a very high likelihood that going without oxygen as long as he did caused Sean brain damage. Until he does wake up how severe that damage, or whether there is any at all, is unknown. If Sean doesn't wake up or regain cognition you will both have some difficult choices to make," said Dr. Buchanan slowly. "You would need to decide at some point whether you wish to have him receive long-term care in an appropriate facility or whether to discontinue further treatment."

"And if Coop does wake up?" Serge whispered, his mouth already going dry.

"There are wide variety of possibilities and his recovery will be taken one moment at a time."

Serge and Elizabeth looked at each other and knew they both wanted the same thing.

Elizabeth spoke first. "I think…we owe it to our son to give him every possible chance. If…Sean's had enough at any point, I think he'll be the one to decide that somehow. Not us."

Dr. Tomlinson gave them an understanding nod. "So, I take it that we have permission to go ahead with the NG tube, then?"

"You do," Serge mumbled, forcing himself upright. "Is there somewhere outside to sit around this joint?"

"Yes, there's a courtyard on the first floor at the back of the hospital."

* * *

" _So, let me get this straight, Coop," Jimmy had begun as he continued to watch Coop tooling around with his car engine. "You didn't get any sleep last night because we did six hours of overtime."_

" _Uh-huh," Coop muttered, wiping his forehead and wiping the oil and sweat off on his ragged grey sweatshirt._

" _And you got three hours the night before that. Because you had one of those dreams or whatever again."_

" _Correct, Jimmy," Coop muttered, focusing on tightening a bolt._

" _How the hell are you still awake and functioning? I just don't get why you do this to yourself."_

_Coop began wiping his wrench with his sweatshirt as he slammed the T-Bird's hood shut. "It ain't something I expect you to get, Jimmy. And I really hope you never got to."_

_But now, as he watched Coop's grinning ghost and that damn patrol car disappear into a brisk December wind, Jimmy began to shiver as Coop's long ago words swirled back. Good God did he understand._

* * *

"I know it's hard to look at, Jimmy," said Elizabeth softly as she smoothed the tape on the left side of Coop's face that held the NG tube in place. But it's only another thing to help Sean." Now past 4am, Serge still hadn't returned upstairs after his jaunt to the courtyard.

Jimmy was relieved Elizabeth assumed his discomfort was from seeing Coop with the NG tube. But really, what was there to be squeamish about? Nurse Taylor had come in and sponged the dried blood out of Coop's hair and off his face. With the ventilator gone, the only things obscuring Coop's face at all were the NG tube, a small white bandage above Coop's left eyebrow, and the nasal cannula giving Coop supportive oxygen as his lung continued to heal and mend. Jimmy could see each feature of Coop's profile and he took the sight in hungrily, memorizing the facial map so he'd never forget it.

A sudden snore grabbed Elizabeth's attention and she looked with unease at Father Mack, curled up between two chairs in the corner Serge had formally occupied. She had earlier offered to wake up Jimmy to drive him home, but the priest had refused, drinking a cup of watery broth before drifting back off to sleep.

"So, what exactly do we do now?" Jimmy asked, sinking into his chair and sighing.

Slipping her hand into Coop's as she brought her chair as close to the bed as she could, Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. "Just wait for Sean to come back to us. Don't you want to head home, Jimmy?"

Jimmy shook his head. "I told Eileen I'd be staying and she's fine with it."

"Don't you have to work?"

Jimmy sighed. "No, I'm not scheduled till Wednesday. They couldn't give me all the vacation time I wanted a few weeks back, so I ended up getting the last few days of it this week. But, if they need me, I'll probably go in and do what I can to help."

"Maybe we can put those books to use then," said Elizabeth, gesturing towards the table behind them. "You went to all that trouble to get them."

"Sure," Jimmy mumbled, his knees itching and stretching painfully as he got up and picked the first book off the pile. _The Collected Poems of William Wordsworth._ "Here ya go, Elizabeth," said Jimmy, offering the book.

"You keep that Jimmy. Read to us whatever you want."

Jimmy's eyebrows shot up and almost disappeared beneath his hairline. " _Me_ read? Um, I uh…don't exactly know how to say half the words in this book right, Elizabeth."

"Sean and me don't care, Jimmy. It's something that will help all of us forget this horrible place for a few minutes."

"Uh, if you're sure," Jimmy stammered, sweat dripping down his face as he began flipping through the book to the poem "Daffodils." "Uh… _I wandered lonely as a cloud_ …"

* * *

" _That floats on high o'er vales and hills,_  
When all at once I saw a crowd,  
A host, of golden daffodils;  
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,  
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze."

"Uh, _what_ , Coop?" Danny stammered, Coop's sudden run of verbal non-sense claiming his attention away from _Family Affair._

Danny let out a gasp as Robin stared at the cushion beneath him in bewilderment, trying to figure out where the warm lap he had been resting on had vanished away to.

* * *

" _Hell, not again!" Coop screamed as the familiar black surrounded him. Taking a deep breath, Coop tried to shield his head from the wild roller-coaster ride he was about to embark on. But he was unable to draw his limbs inward._

_Coop's heart began to pound as he felt cotton pile up around him and a thick, sticky haze congeal his thoughts into a sea of taffy. If Coop had merely been afraid during what he had surmised were his last moments alone in his patrol car, he was now ready to break out into full blown panic as he began to feel ice cold._

_Then soft warmth filtered through his left hand and Coop grasped at it with all his might._

* * *

Elizabeth let out a loud gasp as she felt Coop's limp hand become firm and clasp around hers. "Sean?"

Jimmy stopped struggling over the word "jocund" as his eyes flew to Elizabeth in confusion.

* * *

" _Ma? Is that you?" Coop tried to scream, but a dry, grating pain lodged the words in his throat. His heart beating so fast he feared it might explode, Coop winced as a sudden burst of light shattered the dark into a million fragments._

* * *

"Oh, God," Elizabeth whispered as she caught a brief glimpse of Coop's eyes cracking open and his lips moving.

Jimmy's hands went limp and the open book fell to the floor.

"Jimmy, go get the doctor!"

His body acting with a will of its own, Jimmy bolted out of his seat and ran into the hallway, panting when he reached the triage desk.

Dr. Tomlinson and Nurse Taylor looked up at Jimmy in confusion from the patient chart they were discussing.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Bruno? asked Nurse Taylor worriedly.

"Coop…eyes…Elizabeth…." Jimmy stammered, gesturing to the doorway behind with his thumb before darting back across the hall.

Exchanging confused glances, the two women could do nothing but follow Jimmy and stopped in the doorway when they saw Coop's half open eyes.

* * *

_The blurry blue blobs meant nothing to Coop as he struggled to keep the darkness at bay. He couldn't think. Loosening his grip on his mother's hand, Coop's panic began to ease as sleep began to take hold, beckoning him somewhere that made sense._

* * *

Feeling Coop's hand becoming limp once more, Elizabeth clenched Coop's hand as hard as she dared as she began to plead, "No, Sean, please, please Sean don't go. Come back, Sean! You have to stay here!"

* * *

_Stay where, Ma? Coop thought as the darkness began to reassemble and sew itself back together._

* * *

Sprinting from the doorway, Jimmy shot for the foot of Coop's bed and began shaking his foot. "Coop!" Jimmy cried, booming so loudly that Father Mack woke up instantly and began to climb to his feet. "Come on, buddy! You gotta hang on!"

Jimmy's words hit Coop like a punch to the jaw and he gripped his mother's hand in a panic. The darkness was blasted back into a billion smithereens as bits of a strange room came into focus through the bales of cotton in which Coop felt himself trapped. His eyes made a brief sweep of the room until they rested on his mother's white blouse, one he had seen dozens of times and a sight that eased his nerves. His eyes widened as a tear escaped from Elizabeth's eye and dripped onto his forehead.

"Sorry, sweetie," Elizabeth whispered, her voice trembling with relief as she held onto her son for dear life.

"Sorry for what, Ma?" Coop wondered in a daze as his eyelids slipped down.

"That's it, Coop," Jimmy whispered as he felt Father Mack come to his side. "Just hang on for a little bit longer and show those bastard doctors you're in there!" For a brief moment, Coop's cloudy eyes had shot a bolt of blue lightening at him and that's when Jimmy knew he wouldn't be seeing Coop's ghost again anytime soon. Whatever the future held, Jimmy vowed it was a journey they would be on together.

Dr. Tomlinson's feet became unglued and she squeezed herself between Elizabeth and Jimmy's abandoned chair. "Sean, I'm Dr. Tomlinson. I know you're probably feeling pretty sleepy and really confused right now a lot of questions in your mind, but I need you to stay with us for just a little bit longer before you go back to sleep. Alright?"

Coop parted his dry lips to respond in the direction of the fluttery voice, but the words clumped together in his throat.

"Sean, don't try to talk," ordered Dr. Tomlinson. "You have had a tube down your throat that has probably made it pretty sore. For right now, I want you to blink once for yes, twice for no. Do you understand?"

Coop blinked as hard as he could, saving his remaining energy to keep hanging onto his mother. "Why the hell would someone put a tube down my throat?" Coop wondered as he struggled to lift his eyelids back up.

Elizabeth's hand shook in Coop's and Jimmy and Father Mack each took deep swallows at the scene unfolding before them.

"Good, Sean, good," praised Dr. Tomlinson as if Coop had done something as monumental as climb Mount Everest. "Do you know where you are?"

With all the strength he could muster, Coop blinked twice. No, he had never seen this hellhole or felt so out of it in all his life and he could only imagine what the explanation might be.


	29. The Halfway House

Not sure whether to believe she was awake or dreaming, Elizabeth's voice crept out before she was even aware of the words rolling off her tongue. "You're in the hospital, sweetheart," Elizabeth whispered, brushing a limp lock of hair off of Coop's forehead with her free hand. "And the doctors and nurses are doing all they can to help you get better."

"Good job," Dr. Tomlinson whispered into Elizabeth's ear quickly. "There will be time enough when Sean is more awake to give him more details."

As his mother's words parted some of the fog that had him in its grip, Coop's eyes narrowed into slits as he tried to remember what had happened. His last memory at all was preparing to throw a huge handful of rice at the back of Allan's head as groom and bride had rushed for the taxi waiting to take them to Philadelphia International Airport.

Guess Allan really wasn't in much of a hurry to get to Los Angeles, after all, Coop thought hazily, recalling his quick dart into the cheering crowd at the wedding. Coop struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Your mother is correct, Sean. You're in Pennsylvania General Hospital," Dr. Tomlinson began, her eyes not straying from Coop's face. "You got hurt last night when you were working. Do you remember what happened?"

Coop blinked twice slowly. Opening his eyes back up even a quarter of the way almost knocked him out. What this broad was telling him didn't make any God damned sense. He didn't work on Saturdays; that was the real reason he had taken the whole vacuum cleaner selling gig in the first place. Saturdays were meant for sleeping until noon.

"Well, it is nothing to worry about, Sean. When you feel better, we will tell you what happened," said Dr. Tomlinson in a soothing voice.

"That's right, Sean," Elizabeth said in a shuddery whisper as she took a piece of Coop's hair and began curling it with her forefinger. "Everything's going to be alright, sweetheart."

The room fell into a tense silence. Jimmy licked his lips anxiously and winced as his tongue came into contact with his wounded flesh. Biting the inside of his lip, Jimmy leaned forward and gripped the wooden foot of Coop's bed for support. He barely felt Father Mack silently place a hand on his shoulder.

Clenching his mother's hand Coop felt a slow blush creep across his face as he tried to direct his watery eyes on Elizabeth's face. Shy and reserved, Elizabeth Cooper was the polar opposite of her husband and son; she was calm and collected when things around her fell apart. His mother also hadn't gushed at him this much since he had been six and had loudly protested he was too old for lullabies and babyish nicknames. Coop was feeling more and more confused with each passing second. In the brief snatches his mind was his own, that was.

His eyes at last cooperating, the sight of Elizabeth's face hit Coop like a sledgehammer and the haze let go of him for a moment as bits and pieces began hitting. Eyes bloodshot, swollen and smudged with black circles. Wispy strands of greasy blonde hair creeping out of its braid. Traces of mascara all over her cheeks. Coop couldn't stand to look any more and he let his eyes drift back to his mother's shirtfront. Just what the hell had happened to him last night? A rogue vacuum cleaner finally getting its revenge somehow?

"Sean, I can tell you feel pretty sleepy. And I am going to let you get back to sleep right away," said Dr. Tomlinson, rubbing her sweaty palms together. "But I am going to ask you to do one thing for me before that, alright?"

Coop blinked as the clouds began to roll back in and blur his vision.

"Okay, Sean. I want you to move one of your hands for me. Not your right hand, because your shoulder on that side got injured and you need to keep it still. I will need you to let go of Sean's hand for a moment, Mrs. Cooper."

Elizabeth hesitated and looked at Dr. Tomlinson wearily.

"Please, Mrs. Cooper. This is very important."

Uncertainly, Elizabeth eased her hand out of Coop's grasp.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cooper. Can you move your left hand up and down for me, Sean?" asked Dr. Tomlinson, studying Coop's fingers intently.

His eyelids feeling like they weighed a thousand pounds apiece, Coop stole a glance at his hand, almost drowning in a sea of scratchy blue cotton. Coop clenched his teeth together as he lifted his hand. Flesh and bone had been replaced by solid iron.

Dizzy with relief, Elizabeth let her remaining tears slide down her cheeks. _Thank you, God._

"Good job, Sean," said Dr. Tomlinson, straightening her nametag.

"Yeah, good boy, Coop! I'll go grab your cookie!" Jimmy blurted out as he straightened up. Then Jimmy grimaced as he realized just how much fatigue had loosened his inhibitions. What the hell had he just said?

For once, Jimmy's corny joke hit its mark and he almost grinned as he heard Father Mack let out a loud chuckle.

"What the hell is so funny?" Coop thought as he flew into a clearing and vowed to give Jimmy a solid punch to the head when he saw him.

"Alright, Sean. That is enough for now. I will be back to check on you later. I want you to get back to sleep; you need your rest," Dr. Tomlinson ordered quietly as she slipped past Jimmy's chair and dragged a still stunned Nurse Taylor out of the room with her. They sure as heck were going to have a story to tell at the triage desk.

Though he continued the battle, the barbells on his eyelids were winning as Coop's eyes began to close and refuse to lift anymore.

"That's it, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep and get your rest. I promise one of us will be here when you wake up. Me, Jimmy, or Father Mack," Elizabeth murmured as she smoothed Coop's hair into place and touched the bandage above Coop's left eyebrow gingerly.

"Why's Father Mack here?" Coop tried to ask. But his dry, cracked lips refused to part.

Easing up beside Elizabeth, Jimmy grabbed Coop's left hand in the traditional way the guys at the precinct did to congratulate each other on a job well done.

"Good going, Coop. I knew you could do this, buddy," said Jimmy, tucking in his pinky finger and trailing it slow and soft across Coop's palm.

As black descended and Coop felt himself fade away, the prickle from Jimmy's touch was all that captivated him. It happened every time he got frustrated with Jimmy of late; before his fury could even form, Jimmy would scheme up some way to reduce him to hopeless bondage.

Staring at his hand as light once more surrounded him, Coop didn't notice Robin leap up onto the empty couch cushion beside him.

* * *

Stifling a yawn, Dr. Buchanan slurped back the last bit of his double cream, double sugar coffee. For the first time in over a week, it had been quiet in the ICU when he had been on and Dr. Buchanan had been able to escape to the floor below for a cigar. With all the oxygen tanks on the ICU floor, smoking had always been forbidden.

As the elevator doors rolled open, the rapid babbling of clicking tongues rushed into Dr. Buchanan's ears like a raging river.

"Amazing, simply amazing!"

"I never would have thought it possible…"

"Wait till Herb hears…"

"Wait till I hear what, ladies?" Dr. Buchanan asked, coming up to the triage desk and resting his mug and one elbow along the top.

The four chattering nurses fell silent.

Rubbing his left eye with a free hand, Dr. Buchanan surveyed the group. "Ladies, I know it's been a quiet night, but you need to keep it down; we have patients trying to sleep. I know it's time for the vitals check soon, but until then…"

"Sorry, Herb," interrupted Donna with a sheepish grin. "But you've got to admit it's pretty amazing. And congratulations."

Dr. Buchanan removed his elbow from the desk and looked at Donna in confusion.

"Didn't Jill tell you? Sean Cooper woke up and was following commands! You did it, Herb! You saved that boy's life!"

Donna and the other three nurses broke into a silent round of applause.

Shaking his head, Dr. Buchanan left his mug on the desk and began searching the hallway for Dr. Tomlinson.

* * *

" _Dance to your daddy,_  
My bonnie laddie,  
Dance to your daddy,  
My bonnie lamb. 

_You shall get a fishy,_  
In a little dishy,  
You shall get a fishy,  
When the boat comes in."

Satisfied Coop had drifted back to sleep, Elizabeth gently rested his hand back on the blanket and got to her feet. She was greeted by Jimmy and Father Mack shooting her wondering looks.

Elizabeth flushed with embarrassed. "I...I...used to sing that to Sean at night when he was little to help him go to sleep."

"You have no need to explain yourself, Elizabeth," said Father Mack softly as he gathered Elizabeth's limp hand into his own stiff one.

Jimmy looked down. _Fuck._ He'd been so wrapped up in his own misery, he had taken little time to think how his one careless act of fear had almost taken away the man that was Elizabeth's whole world.

"Father, you're lookin' pretty tired. Want me to drive you home?" Jimmy asked, jamming his hands into the rigid, narrow pockets of his jeans.

Father Mack let out a sigh as he unfolded his stiff, aching fingers. "I must admit I'm tired, James, and would be very grateful if you would do that. But I don't feel comfortable leaving Elizabeth here by herself."

"Don't worry about me, Father. I'll be alright," said Elizabeth, tucking a stray piece of blouse back into her skirt. "It goes without saying we got a wonderful gift tonight. I know Dr. Tomlinson pulled me aside for a bit to tell me Sean still isn't out of the woods, but I just know in my heart everything is going to be okay now."

Father Mack nodded. "God has most certainly made it clear he is watching over Sean. But I still don't think you should be left alone, Elizabeth."

"I'll come right back here after I take you home, Father," said Jimmy quickly.

"I can't let you do that, Jimmy," replied Elizabeth. "You've already gone above and beyond and have your own family to get home to."

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. "There ain't any other place I wanna be right now, Elizabeth. Eileen'll understand." Jimmy bit his tongue slightly as he looked down. He wasn't betraying Coop twice.

A nagging memory of quickly putting Coop's mattress back into place after spotting pin-ups of Tony Curtis and Ricky Nelson instead of the expected _Playboy_ magazines tugged at Elizabeth's mind as she saw a tortured look flash through Jimmy's eyes.

* * *

"Sit down, Herb. You look like you are about to pass out," said Dr. Tomlinson as she tried to finish filling out Mr. Bradbury's transfer forms to a rehabilitative hospital closer to his home in northeastern Pennsylvania.

Dr. Buchanan leaned against Dr. Tomlinson's desk. "It's just Ihave to admit I never thought we'd see this outcome, Jill. Not in a million years."

"Well, you have been doing this job for over twenty years, Herb. You know medicine has changed a lot; patients that were impossible to save then are almost routine these days. Besides, you must have had dozens, if not hundreds, of patients that have beaten the odds."

"Not like this."

Dr. Tomlinson stopped writing and let the pen rest over the forms. "Alright. This case _is_ more extreme than most, Herb, and that means it is all the more amazing that you probably saved Sean's life. I know is rather early to be saying that, but we have good reason to have hope right now."

Dr. Buchanan took a seat, folded his hands, and rested them on Dr. Tomlinson's desk. "Well, I don't think that's an honour that belongs to me, Jill. Saving that young man's life, I mean."

"What do you mean, then?"

Dr. Buchanan shook his head. "Jill, there's just no logical reason that officer was alive when he got here; I have never seen a patient lose that much blood and still have a pulse. And now you're telling me he's not only woken up a day after coming in like that, but was able to understand you and follow commands before he went back to sleep?"

"Well, Herb, you know the ambulance service is getting more equipped all the time. I am sure the saline infusions and artificial respiration played an important role in…"

"That's no adequate explanation, either," said Dr. Buchanan, wiping his sweaty palms on his lab coat. "I think, for the first time in my entire career, I don't have an explanation beyond it being a miracle."

Dr. Tomlinson leaned back. She knew Dr. Buchanan was a regular churchgoer, but divine intervention in his patients was something her colleague was always dismissing.

"Well, Herb, is admitting you are not always the one that is one hundred percent in control of a patient's destiny such a bad thing?"

Dr. Buchanan gave Dr. Tomlinson a tired smile. "Maybe not."

* * *

"Let me guess," said Danny, entering the den with two brimming glasses of Coke. "I bet you a rookie Mickey Mantle card that you're never going to wash that hand again?"

Coop looked up and his eyes widened in confusion when he spotted Danny and became aware he was back in the den.

"What the hell?" Coop whispered, letting out a sigh of relief when he heard his own voice.

Danny grinned as he grabbed _TV Guide_ and placed the two glasses atop it. "I told you to trust me that you would be getting a pass on the nightmares. How was the trip back down to Earth?"

Coop didn't answer, shaking his head from side to side as he tried to rattle his thoughts out of the solid taffy.

"I take that it was a smoother ride than last time?" asked Danny, putting Robin on the coffee table so he could take a seat beside Coop. "The Boss said to tell you he's sorry about that last side trip you had; his poodle got into the control room while he was chatting with a new agent and messed up a bunch of dials and settings. I didn't get to talk with him long, though. He had about a thousand other phone calls on hold from agents trying to deal with upset clients."

"It was…okay," said Coop at last, relieved he was able to speak once more. "I sort of just…faded in and out. But it was…weird and totally bizarre. Nothing made any sense."

Danny tapped his chin. "What was strange about it, Coop?"

"I couldn't talk and I could hardly think. I felt like I did the first time I got drunk; everything was hazy and nothing was registering. I couldn't remember anything about what happened to land me in that hellhole; everything was all fragmented and jumbled," Coop explained, sticking his tongue out to make sure it was still intact and in working order. "I couldn't even remember where I worked, for Christ's sake! And I've been on the force over a year! And Ma looked awful and was acting all out of it. I almost passed back out right there, but some chick I didn't get a look at kept yapping at me."

"Hmmm," muttered Danny thoughtfully.

Coop sighed. "I've really done it to Ma this time, haven't I? I told her over and over when my first day on the force came that I'd be fine and that nothing would happen to me. Now look what I've gone and done!"

Danny made a fist with his right hand. "For Pete's sake, Coop, none of what happened to you the other night was your fault! Yes, you made a bad judgment call; that argument I concede to you. But you got to realize that you would have been in harm's way whether or not Jimmy had been with you! I know it hurt a lot to see your mother looking so upset, but she's entitled to that, Coop. You're her kid and she was scared she was going to lose you!"

Coop looked down and muttered, "Yeah, that's another thing I'm guilty of, ain't it? Reopening old wounds."

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Coop mumbled, wishing he hadn't said anything at all.

"Alright," replied Danny uneasily, rubbing his face and groaning as he realized he needed a shave. "Well, as to why things were so strange down there, I'm sure if we approach this logically, I think I can help you realize an explanation that makes sense."

"Sure," Coop mumbled, wondering how Danny would rationalize this one.

"You remember meeting my parents once or twice, right, Coop?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so. Please don't make things too complicated, Danny. I still ain't feeling right."

"I won't," Danny reassured Coop as he took a quick swig of Coke.

"Well, to get back to what I was saying, my dad fought in North Africa during World War II. He was a pilot and he got shot down. Suffered a really bad injury to his spine."

"Poor guy," Coop muttered, shuddering as flashes of his injured platoon mates crept up on him.

"Yeah, well, he had to have a major operation in '56 on it because the damage got so bad he couldn't do anything except lie in bed or watch TV all day," Danny explained. "Well, after he got out of the operating room, he was on so many medications after it was over that it was was about four days before he recognized me and my brothers. Took him about two days with Mom, but that was understandable; he'd known her way longer."

"What the hell would do that to a person?" Coop wondered aloud.

Danny shrugged. "I think it was the morphine, mainly. Morphine's a really powerful pain medicine. My dad said it was evil stuff and made us promise to never let the doctors put him on it again, no matter how much pain he was in. I know things have changed a lot in the last twelve years since my dad's operation and I'm definitely no doctor, but I'm willing to bet that's what they have you on. I think it's the strongest stuff available."

Coop snorted and threw his head back. "Right, they have me on some potent painkiller when I've been asleep and dead to the world with a tube down my throat?"

Danny picked up his glass and gave Coop a hard stare. "Can't explain the tube bit; I have no idea or clue about what that would be for. But think about the other part logically, Coop. You were shot twice and they did who knows what to fix you up. Of course they have you on painkillers."

Coop angled his head, his fiery eyes burning through Danny. He realized Danny was right; there had to be _some_ reason he hadn't felt the pain that had previously made him pass out.

"So, tell me something then, Danny. If I'm going to live again why the hell am I back in this life and death place with you?"

"Oh, that's quite easy to explain, Coop," said Danny, resting his empty glass between his legs. "You're no longer Somewhere Between Life and Death. You're now Halfway Between What and Where. You'll be coming here for a while when you're sleeping. Promised you'd find out when the time was right."

"I'm WHERE?"

"Halfway Between What and Where," Danny repeated. "Sort of an outer world you'll journey to until the time's right for us to part ways until it's really your time to head back up to Eternity."

"But…why?" Coop asked, his mind swirling with confusion as Robin hopped up onto his lap.

"You're a rather complicated case, Coop; you got a ton of things going on and the Boss figured you could benefit from some further guidance; there's only so much we could talk about and process in thirty hours," said Danny.

"Then what the hell is Robin doing here?"

"Well, I'm the one who brought him with us to Somewhere Between Life and Death. I didn't feel right sending him back to Earth unless you okayed it," explained Danny, giving the bony cat a quick pet.

Coop's eyebrows knitted together. "Your boss or whoever needs to study the art of title making, Danny. There's a skill in that as in anything else."

"Coop, the Boss is a busy guy! He has the whole Earth to keep an eye on; cut him some slack!"

"Okay, whatever, Danny," mumbled Coop, half-scared God or whoever was about to give him an electric shock. "Uh, anyway, this is gonna sound nuts, but I want you to keep Robin here. I don't know what the hell this is, but he's probably safe here. At least I know he'll be taken care of with you, Danny. I sure as hell can't trust anyone else in my life to do it!"

"Oh, not true," said Danny, studying the grain on Coop's coffee table. "Jimmy left him a huge helping of food earlier and would've spent some time with him if Robin had been down there."

"Yeah, right!" Coop snorted. Jimmy's bitched at me so much the past six months that I lock my house up now when I go out or to work. And I'm not one of those morons who leaves a spare key under a doormat. How the hell would Jimmy have gotten into my house, short of breaking in?"

"Oh, it's called knowing your locker combination, grabbing your house keys, and feeding that old cat of yours because he's so anxious to do anything and everything to make things up to you," said Danny.

Coop began rubbing the "M" on Robin's forehead. "And, if I know Jimmy as well as I think I do, he's beating himself up because he thinks he can never make it up to me, right?"

"Bingo."

"Jimmy did fuck up pretty good," Coop acknowledged, groaning as that stubborn lock of hair drifted into his eyes. "But so did I. But there's nothing we can do to change that. He might not be able to really make things up, but he better damn well try. I just know in the future things are gonna be different between Jimmy and me."

Danny quit his staring contest with Robin. "And how would you know that, Coop?"


	30. Streets of Brotherly Love

Coop ginned as he trailed a finger across the palm Jimmy had caressed. "He's not afraid anymore," Coop whispered.

"Not afraid anymore?" repeated Danny, reaching into his pocket a few sticks of Doublemint Wrigley's gum. Popping the pieces into his mouth, Danny decided to see how big a bubble he could blow.

Coop looked up as Danny's bubble burst. "Yeah, Jimmy's not afraid of us anymore. Hell, Jimmy's never even been able to talk about us without shitting himself. He really meant it when he said things would be different if I stayed, didn't he?"

Danny nodded, picking pieces of gum out of his chin stubble. "He did," Danny confirmed. "Most people when they bargain don't follow through on what they promise, but I think Jimmy will. He seems to be a man of his word from what I know about him."

"What do you mean by bargain?"

Danny shrugged. "Oh, I just meant that people will promise to the Boss and the people they love all sorts of things if only xyz will happen. Grief and fear are tricky beasts to grapple with and people will say almost anything if it means having some sort of resolution."

Coop considered Danny's answer and his shoulders slumped. "So what you're trying to say is that it's a bad thing it took me almost kicking the bucket for Jimmy to change his mind about things, aren't ya?"

"Not at all."

Coop bit his lip. "Then why are you going on to me about people not meaning what they promise?"

Danny took a seat beside Coop. "Think about it, Coop. How long did it take me to make you realize that Jimmy messed up and said horrible things he didn't mean?"

Coop flushed as Robin leapt onto his armrest. "Okay, a lot longer than it should've. But what the hell does that gotta do with anything going on now?"

"Well, who else has said terrible things to you lately that they probably didn't mean and wished they hadn't?"

Coop snorted. "If you mean McCree or Murph—"

"No, not those guys," interrupted Danny, rolling his eyes. Coop could be so dense sometimes.

Coop sighed and dragged his foot along the carpet. "You mean Pop, don't you?"

"The one and only."

Coop's mouth curled into a hard sneer. "That man ain't my father no more. You know damn well what he said to me after I told him I was still a man: 'No you're not. And you're not my son neither.'"

Danny sighed and stared at Coop. "And I'm telling you your dad's like Jimmy and didn't realize what he was saying. There's no way your dad would ever want to lose another kid. Even if that means you're not the person he thought you were all these years."

Coop paled.

"It would be pretty horrible for a father to wash his hands of the only kid he has alive, wouldn't it? That's why what your dad said to you still stings so much, right?" Danny persisted. "Even though part of you realizes your father is too much like yourself and Jimmy, saying the first thing that pops into his head without thinking of the consequences."

Coop swallowed and began to shake his head. "I got no idea what you're talking about."

"Quit with the charade, Coop. You know damn well you want to tell me about Michael."

* * *

Elizabeth woke with a start as she felt someone shaking her shoulder.

Dr. Tomlinson offered Elizabeth an apologetic look. "So sorry to wake you, Mrs. Cooper. I was just afraid you were going to fall to the floor otherwise."

Elizabeth rubbed her eyes and gave Dr. Tomlinson a weak smile. "That's very considerate of you, Doctor."

Dr. Tomlinson shrugged. "Will you be heading home soon, Mrs. Cooper?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I need to be here when Sean wakes up. I promised him."

Dr. Tomlinson gestured for Elizabeth to get up and head into the hall with her. "Can I have a quick word, Mrs. Cooper?"

"Alright," said Elizabeth quickly as she joined the doctor, angling herself in the doorway so she could keep a glance on her sleeping son out of the corner of her eye.

Dr. Tomlinson weighed her words carefully. "Mrs. Cooper, the love and devotion you have for your son is nothing short of extraordinary. But you have been sitting in this room for over a day now; you have yourself to consider, too. I think it best that you head home and get some rest, even if only for a few hours. If anything were to change, we would get in contact with you immediately."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I promised Sean I wouldn't leave him. I need to be here when he wakes up."

"Mrs. Cooper, it could be a long while before that happens. Sean was still clearly feeling the effects of the sedation and the painkillers that we have him on. It could be a couple days before he is completely alert; the medications affect every patient differently."

Elizabeth's mouth went dry. "Can't you adjust the dosage so Sean is able to wake up faster?"

Dr. Tomlinson shook her head. "Right now, preventing infection and pain management are our top priorities. Sean has been through a tremendous trauma and sleep is just what his body needs now to recover. When Sean is awake and able to tell us if he is feeling any pain, then we will be able to begin adjusting the morphine drip accordingly."

"Well, until that happens then, I'm staying here with Sean."

"Well, you will not be able to be there for Sean if you are not fit and well, yourself" Dr. Tomlinson countered gently. "I know Mr. Cooper has not been back this morning, but is there no one else that can at least come and stay with you a while?"

"Jimmy should be back soon."

Dr. Tomlinson sighed. "I understand that he and Sean are partners, but he should also be heading home and resting up. Do you have no other children or family that could come here?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, Sean's all there is."

* * *

Coop's clenched his teeth together so tightly his jaw began to shake. "I've not thought about Michael in years."

Danny sighed and mopped sweat off his brow with his handkerchief. "Sure you haven't, Coop. Just like you've never thought about me once the past four years."

"You know damn well I think about you a lot, Danny."

"Oh, I know. Just saying it's the same about your brother."

Coop grunted. "Just what the hell is it you're trying to do here, Danny? Be my shrink?"

"Nah. Just giving you my perspective on things like I've been doing this whole time," Danny countered.

"Not much to say about him, anyways," Coop muttered, playing with his belt buckle.

* * *

_Six-year-old Sean swung his feet, scratching where the wool shorts of his Sunday suit chafed behind his knees. Yet again he had been left alone in the hallway as his parents had still another chat with the doctor about when Michael would be able to come home._

_Pulling a thread off his shorts that had come loose, Sean wondered why Michael had had to come to the hospital in the first place. He had also had the measles a few weeks before, but had been able to stay home in his own bed. Just what was the big deal; measles was a disease everyone had to have._

_Sean looked up as he heard footsteps approaching him. He got to his feet as he saw his parents approach him slowly._

_Brogan Cooper, who had joined the family for church still dressed in his work uniform, crept up the hallway slowly with an arm swung around his wife._

_Sean scuffed his polished Oxfords along the floor. "Can I see Mikey today, Dad?"_

_Brogan shook his head as his wife buried herself into his chest. "Not today, son. Michael's sleeping."_

_Sean looked up and stamped his feet. "But he was asleep yesterday! When he's gonna be awake?"_

_Brogan's eyes misted over as he stared over Sean's head. "He's not going to wake up, son."_

* * *

"And that was it," Coop muttered. "That's when everything stopped."

Danny put a hand on Coop's shoulder. "When what stopped?"

Coop pulled Danny's hand off and got to his feet. Coop moved over the window and stared into the backyard. "You know, my family used to be a real one, Danny."

Danny furrowed his brow and tried to understand what Coop was getting at. "They're still your family, Coop."

Coop sighed and sat down at his desk. "Nah, what I mean is my folks didn't always hate each other's guts. They used to be the lucky ones, like Jimmy and me. But when Mike died, so did our family. Pop started working more and more and it was just me and Ma most of the time. Pop only took time off for my ball games. Ma did her damnest to make up for Pop, but if it hadn't been for my grandparents, I wouldn't know what having a father or what a happy marriage was."

"Well, people say losing a kid is the ultimate tragedy, Coop. I think they're right, too. Don't you think it's understandable things between your parents changed after that happened?"

"Yeah. And here I am putting them through that shit again…"

Danny ran his hand down his face. "Coop, don't you get yet none of this is your fault and that your parents aren't going to go through that hell again?"

"Sure I do." Coop's averted eyes gave his true thoughts away. "I just don't get why I wasn't ever good enough for Pop, though. I mean, I know Mike dying hurt him and Ma bad. But I was still alive; Pop still had me, but it didn't seem to matter. But then me and him just never dug each other the way him and Mike got each other. Was like that with me and Pop Pop, too; Pop told me once I was the son his dad had wished he had."

Danny opened his mouth to speak, but Coop beat him to the punch.

"Anyways, I bet Pop's gonna be pissed his wish won't come true now."

Danny's mouth went dry. "What wish?"

Coop shrugged. "That I was dead so he could make a big show of having a dead cop and hero for a son. Now he's gotta act like I'm not dead to him, think of some way to protect his God damned reputation!"

Danny's mouth dropped and he climbed to his feet. "Coop, how the hell can you say something like that?"

"'Cos it's true."

"No it isn't!" yelled Danny, cringing as Robin let out a panicked yowl and darted under the couch.

Coop face went blank and his eyes hard.

"Look Coop, losing one kid almost destroyed your father; you're all that he's hung on for all these years. If you'd gone and died now, he'd be as dead as Jimmy would've been."

Coop crossed his arms. "I don't believe that and I ain't talking about it anymore."

"Alright," said Danny.

Coop raised his head and eyed Danny wearily. "What do you mean alright?"

"I'm not going to make you talk about something you're not ready to confront yet."

"Yeah, sure," Coop muttered, clenching his fists. "When you've been doing that ever since we met up!"

"We got plenty of time now to tackle that issue," explained Danny. "Like it or not, you're going to be seeing plenty of me for the next while."

Coop groaned. "You sure I'm not dead and in Hell, Danny?"

Coop's attempt at humour brought a tiny smile to Danny's lips. "Positive. Mike's fine, by the way."

Coop's eyes widened.

"Yes, I know you hate it when I do this, but I can't help it when I sense your thoughts. Your brother's happy and safe; your grandparents are watching out for him till it's time for you all to join him," said Danny.

"I wonder if I'll even know him when that happens," Coop muttered, studying the carpet. "When people go up where you are, do they stay the same age or do they just keep on getting older?"

"A bit of both; they do age, but revert back to how you remember them when they greet you at the gates. We can revert back and forth depending on what it is we're doing," explained Danny. "If I wanted to be climbing trees for instance, it'd easier to do it in kid form then in this formal getup with a trick knee that still likes to give out on me."

"Well, let's forget climbing trees years down the road. I'll settle for being able to talk again at this point," said Coop, recalling his panic when his words had stopped dead in his throat.

"Well, I can't be sure what life will be like for you, Coop. That's information I'm not really privy to," Danny admitted reluctantly. "I do think you'll get through everything okay, even if everyone else thinks it impossible. You've been through hell once already and came through the other side, right?"

Coop had to laugh. "If you call boozing and that shit living."

Danny tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Okay, there was still room for improvement. But, all things considered, I think you held up pretty well, Coop."

"If you say so. Will I uh…get some sort of warning the next time I head back?"

"To be honest, I don't know," said Danny. "I don't think so from how it's gone so far."

"Terrific," Coop replied drily. "I just don't wanna be talking to you and end up finishing something meant for you with Jimmy listening to me, or something; he already thinks I'm loony and if he ever guessed I thought I was talking to someone who is dead—"

"You know damn well Jimmy doesn't think you're crazy, Coop!" Danny interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, that's one of the good things about being on potent painkillers; people will expect you to be out of it for the next while. Think of it like a shooting licence."

"And why doesn't that make me feel better?" asked Coop as he felt Robin begin to creep out from under the sofa.

"Uh, well…"

* * *

Serge hadn't gone to the courtyard of Penn General; instead, he had found himself walking the streets around the hospital, not even realizing for several hours he was heading back to the 5th District Police Station.

But it was little surprise as Serge vaguely thought about it; the station he'd spent most of his career at had become his sanctuary after the bars had lost their power in the months after Michael had died. The days Michael and Coop had come to visit their daddy at work when Elizabeth would drop off his lunch when he had been lucky enough to have a day shift now seemed to have happened to someone else entirely.

Now things had come full circle as the high brick building filled Serge's vision. What had once nurtured and provided for his family had now almost destroyed it. He didn't care about Coop or anything Jimmy might have done with each other; how could it have ever mattered when Serge was now willing to sell his soul to Satan himself if it meant things would just go back to the way they had been?

Serge felt his feet stick to the sidewalk as he spotted Tom McCree having a smoke in the alleyway adjacent to the police station in the early rays of dawn.


	31. Ghosts Rattling Through the Allies

Belying the scorching day that would later unfold, the early morning air still had a bite to it as a soft breeze blew itself through Serge's wrinkled white shirt. But Serge scarcely noticed as his memories were chased away by a blast of white hot rage and felt his fingers begin to curl as he prepared to cross the road, determined to settle a score with Tom McCree.

"Pop."

Serge twisted around as the soft whisper echoed through his ears like a shout off a mountain cascade. He began to shake his head. Just as Serge began to feel certain he hadn't heard what he thought, a high-pitched giggle pulled his gaze to the alley behind him. Serge let out a silent gasp.  _No, it can't be…_

A small boy, no more than five or six and dressed in a white sailor suit, flashed a cheeky smile at Serge.

"Mikey…" Serge whispered before rubbing his eyes, rubbing away the sleeping sand that had built up during his fitful dozes at the hospital and hoping the image of the first little boy lost would vanish along with it. Serge looked up.

A mischievous glint in his hazel eyes that hid behind a cloud of soft blond curls, Michael shook his head before darting back into the alley.

In a rapid sprint Serge hadn't managed since his patrol days, he chased after his small son, and it wasn't long before he almost crashed headlong into a dirty brick wall. Skidding as he tried to regain his balance, Serge's eyes skirted about the alley for the tiny form that had always been so adept at hiding from him and Coop during hide-and-seek.

But the only pair of eyes that greeted Serge was a fat black rat that paid him no attention as it continued to rummage through the dumpster for a morsel of food.

* * *

"Well played," Danny mumbled, his gaze shifting to the glass sitting idly on the tabletop his feet rested upon.

"Huh?" Coop sputtered, his attention shifting from his skittish cat to Danny.

"Yes, sir, very well played."

Coop's mouth went dry as he realized Danny wasn't speaking to him, but to someone…or something… that was not in the room and probably not even in the house with them. "What the hell, man?"

Danny's foot jerked and knocked  _Newsweek_ off the table as Coop's voice drew him back. "I'm sorry, Coop, what were you saying?"

Coop shook his head as Robin rubbed against his leg. "You  _were_ gonna tell me why being drugged to the Moon is supposed to make me feel good, but then that's where you went."

Danny cracked a knuckle, causing Coop to wince. "I didn't go anywhere!"

"Sure you did! You were staring off like you were a satellite a gazillion miles away from here!"

Danny blushed. "Sorry, Coop. The Boss was telling me something, that's all."

"I sure as hell didn't hear anyone else talking!"

Danny shrugged and drew his feet to the floor. "It's sort of another way we communicate up there sometimes. Like the thought pictures I told you about."

Coop snorted. "Hasn't your pal up there ever heard of a phone?"

"Sure he has. He just didn't want to give your fraidy cat over there another heart attack like when he rang me up about spilling too much information on Eileen."

Coop considered Danny's point. "I guess that's true enough. Hell, Robin's afraid of his own shadow…say, can't your buddy change that?"

Danny began to reach into his pocket for his pack of Marlboros. Even though the effects of the cigarettes were four years past, the narrow tube between two fingers was still a soothing ritual. "Robin's disposition has come about for a reason, like a whole bunch of things on Earth. It's a reflection of the crummy ways people have treated him."

Coop looked dejected as he came eye to eye with Robin. "People like me shouting at him for shit that ain't his fault I'll bet."

"Nah, Coop…" Danny began, putting a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and fumbling around for his lighter until Coop's icy stare stopped him.

"Don't even think about it, Danny, or I flush the whole pack down the toilet. You know how I feel about those things!"

Danny pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and gave Coop an exasperated stare. "For Pete's sake, Coop, they can't do anything to you here! Heck, I can even make it so you don't smell it!"

Coop shook his head. This was one thing he would never budge from and he had even thrown the cigar Jimmy had offered him back in his partner's face when Tommy Bruno had been born the previous month.

"Fine!" Danny muttered as he put the cigarette back in its packet. "That's one concession I'll make to you."

"Thanks."

"Now, where were we?" asked Danny, tapping his chin. "Ah yes, Robin over there."

"Right, and I was saying I guess I'm the reason…"

"Hell no!" Danny interjected, satisfied his choice of words still had a powerful effect over Coop when he saw his friend look down at the carpet. "You blowing up at things hasn't helped rid Robin of his fears, but you have shown him not all humans are bad. You're the first person Robin's lived with that hasn't tried to whip him with a leather belt because he left a mouse in the kitchen or accidently knocked over a lamp."

"God, no wonder he's…Coop muttered before a sharp stab of pain took his breath away.

* * *

Jimmy felt his mouth go dry and his stitches begin to throb when he spotted Elizabeth sitting in a chair in the hallway outside Coop's closed room, one of the blue issue hospital blankets draped around her shoulders.  _Hell, oh God. Please let Coop be alright._ Jimmy's feet dragged as went to Elizabeth as fast as he dared. After the rollercoaster ride of the past thirty-six hours, Jimmy hoped against hope this wasn't the conclusion that would leave him shaken and broken.

Elizabeth looked up as she noticed a shadow come across her lap. "Jimmy, you're back!"

Jimmy felt relieved when Elizabeth's voice didn't come out in a shuddery sob. "Yeah, sorry it took a while. Stopped somewhere for a bite to eat. I got Father Mack home okay. He's pretty tired, but insisted he'll be back later today."

Elizabeth let out a sigh that Jimmy wasn't able to discern as happy or sad. "That blessed man hasn't changed at all in all the years I've known him. But he has to realize he isn't as young as he used to be, Jimmy."

Jimmy couldn't help but grin. "You know who we're dealing with here, Mrs. Coop—I mean Elizabeth. Father Mack will admit he's getting old the day he cheers for the Pirates against the Phillies!"

Elizabeth permitted herself a tight smile.

 _You idiot, bringing up baseball…_  Jimmy flushed, though the hospital hallway was much cooler than it had the night before. "So, how's Coop doing?"

"Well, Sean hasn't woken up again," said Elizabeth, wringing her hands in the blanket. "But that might be because they had to give him a bit of a sedative because they had to take him down to X-ray like they told me they would today. Anyways, everything looked good, so they've pulled one of those tubes out and are setting his arm properly." Elizabeth paused to catch her breath. "They're changing his dressings right now and the doctor thought it best I wait out here."

A bit of bile crept up Jimmy's throat at the thought of Coop's injured body exposed in a way that stripped a fiercely independent man of all his dignity. "I'll bet."

"I should be in there, I know exactly what to do," Elizabeth whispered as she folded her legs onto the chair.

Though it was agony, Jimmy crouched down to put an arm around Elizabeth's hunched shoulders.

Elizabeth brushed back a tear that had trickled down, but still let out a dry laugh. "This whole experience has been unreal. I'm still trying to convince myself it was just a bad dream, going through this whole thing again."

"I know what you mean," Jimmy whispered. Those four words, 'I ain't no queer!' that had snapped his partnership with Coop rattled around in remote crevices of his mind when he wasn't distracted.

Elizabeth winced as Jimmy's grip on her shoulder became a little too tight, but one look at Jimmy's haggard face told Elizabeth his mind was anywhere but the hospital. Elizabeth knew that feeling. Left undisturbed in the hallway as busy nurses and nervous residents had raced by her, Elizabeth couldn't believe she once belonged to a similar bustle in a busy maternity ward until getting pregnant with her first child had signaled the close of her nursing career. The detachment and poise she had mastered had crumbled when Michael had fled the walls of St. Joseph's Hospital and had been dashed to further ruin when Dr. Buchannan had gone too deep into the now foreign medical terminology in that barren waiting room that was etched into her memory forever.

Sensing Elizabeth's shoulder tighten beneath his long fingers, Jimmy released his hold. "You okay, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth looked up, her mind racing.  _I can't burden you with anything, Jimmy. Not when you're dealing with some demon I can't even begin to understand. I don't know what it is, but I've seen that look before in Sean's face. God, please let me stay strong enough to find out._  Elizabeth wrapped her warm hand around Jimmy's cold one. "Yes, Jimmy. Just tired."

* * *

"There, that should do it," Nurse Taylor muttered as she finished setting Coop's arm back on the blanket, her face red with exertion. It had been difficult to properly immobilize Coop's arm when so much of his chest was either injured or taken over by other bandages, but she and the doctor had finally concocted a makeshift sling for the short-term.

Dr. Buchanan mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. "Excellent job, Marie. Thanks again for doing overtime for us." Dr. Buchanan sighed; the hospital always seemed to be shorthanded these days, but the fragile glimmerings of hope in the toughest cases were enough to keep his passion for medicine alive.

"No problem," Nurse Taylor said as she studied one of several IV bags hooked up to the patient. "Do you think I should increase the morphine drip? Jill was very concerned about pain control earlier should Sean wake up again."

Dr. Buchanan tapped his chin before shaking his head. "I don't think that'll be happening for at least a few hours. Not with that diazepam injection we gave him just before taking him down to X-ray."

* * *

"Christ," Danny muttered as Coop continued to moan and roll on the floor, the fit of pain that had overtaken his friend's body showing no signs of letting up.

"Holy shit…" Coop cried as his face contorted in pain, beads of sweat dripping down his face and onto his neck.

Boss, you gotta do something here! Danny pleaded silently as he gripped Coop's hand as hard as his own sopping palm would allow.

_Poof!_

A flash of smoke knocked Danny backwards into the coffee table and sent Robin scrambling for cover.

Picking himself up and glancing about the living room, Danny realized he was once again alone until made Coop made his reappearance. A lot in this job I didn't bargain for, Danny thought as he waited for his grandma to pop in with some of her snickerdoodle cookies to tide him over whilst he got a breaks of sorts. He had once surmised that it was easier to handle the physical pain that so many of his kind attracted. The agony Danny had felt before the lights had gone dark in that foggy alley had been a lot more bearable that being forced to quit the game he had loved, but seeing what Coop had just endured came close to swaying Danny's convictions in the other direction.

* * *

His eyelids flying open, Coop was blinded by a white light, another spasm of pain making him squeeze his eyes shut and let out a low groan that grated against the grit in his throat.

Just about to open the door into the hallway to get Elizabeth, Dr. Buchanan and Nurse Taylor made a beeline for the bed when they heard metal rails rattling. Both felt sick as they saw Coop twisting and trying to roll over.

"Marie, keep him still!" Dr. Buchanan boomed as he reached for the morphine bag to increase the rate of the drip.

"I'm trying!" Nurse Taylor snapped, hands placed firmly on Coop's good shoulder and hip as he let another low groan, trying to sit up.

 _No way in hell you're getting away with this, Shane!_ Coop wasn't going to be a victim anymore and he was going to deck Shane for the pain his punches had inflicted upon his chest as soon as the spasms keeping his eyes shut and on his back subsided.

"Sean, please, you have to stay still!" Nurse Taylor pleaded as her arms began to shake.

"There, that should do it!" said Dr. Buchanan, running over to the bed and grabbing hold of Coop's thighs while they waited for the increased morphine to calm him down.

Numbness suddenly spread through Coop's body and he quit struggling.  _God, he's actually killed me._

"That's it, Sean, nice and easy," Nurse Taylor whispered as she and Dr. Buchanan came up to his bedside, relieved at the stillness spreading across Coop's bright red face. "Don't worry, we'll try not to let you hurt like that again, okay?"

Coop opened his eyes halfway and panic filled his eyes as a slim, black-haired women he had never seen before towered above him.

"Nurse, go for his mother," Dr. Buchanan muttered softly.

Giving Dr. Buchanan a quick nod, Nurse Taylor walked quickly for the door.

Seeing wild, dancing eyes still glazed over from the effects of potent medications, Dr. Buchanan searched for an explanation to ease the patient in a situation he never could have imagined possible during that long surgery when it seemed nothing he was doing would reverse the gears Death had set in motion.

* * *

"Mrs. Cooper?"

Jimmy and Elizabeth looked up when they heard the soft drawl. Nurse Taylor leaned against the wall outside Coop's door, her dark eyes and black hair standing out like ink in her pale, tired face.

Nurse Taylor stifled a yawn and gave Elizabeth a slight smile. "Sean's woken up again. I think it best y'all come back into the room right away."

Elizabeth got her feet and began heading to the room so fast she almost knocked Jimmy off-balance.  _The one promise I made to you since being here Sean I wouldn't leave let you be alone and I couldn't even keep that. I never should have let the damn doctor talk me into going into the hallway! I can promise you it won't happen again!_

Coming into the room, Elizabeth's momentary hardness towards Dr. Buchanan melted as she saw her son's terrified look. Jimmy froze as he passed through the doorway, Nurse Taylor stopping a mere footstep behind him.

Spotting Elizabeth, Dr. Buchanan took a step backwards and gestured her towards the bed.

Grabbing a chair, Elizabeth got to the bed as close as she dared, clenching Coop's hand within both of hers. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'm here, your mama's here."

Feeling his mother's satin soft skin against his work callused palm, Coop's quick breathing slowed, the panic in his eyes eased. The blur of actions going on around him was something he couldn't make sense of, but his mother would make everything alright again. She always did.

"Sean," said Elizabeth gently. "Do you remember where you are?"

The words formed in Coop's throat, but his bone dry throat refused to let the words pass.

"Blink once for yes, twice for no," said Jimmy suddenly, creeping up as close to Elizabeth as he dared.

The disembodied voice breaking through some of the fog, Coop blinked twice.

Elizabeth shot Dr. Buchanan a questioning look. She was sure Dr. Tomlinson had given her an explanation, but the minutes and hours were beginning to melt together into one great mush pot.

"The pain medication," he whispered, pointing to the IV poles and hesitant to break the scene unfolding before him when words were still failing him.

"You're in the hospital, Sean. Remember?" asked Elizabeth, hoping with all her heart she wouldn't have to tell her son all that had happened to him until he was stronger.

Coop gave a slow blink. No, he didn't remember, but the bright white room and the doctor fiddling with his stethoscope behind his mother as the room began to come into focus were dead giveaways. It was the oddest sensation, light and floating whilst his mind felt so heavy, but slowly things began to register.

"That's why you feel sleepy, sweetheart." Elizabeth said soothingly. "The doctors are giving you medicine to help you get better. That's Dr. Buchanan right behind over there, the man who…" Elizabeth paused as the peaceful realization came over her. "The man who saved your life."

Dr. Buchanan flushed a brilliant red.  _I had very little to do with this, Mrs. Cooper._ Dr. Buchanan ran a hand over the stubble beginning to blend with his mustache as he realized Coop was slowly becoming more alert. "Would you like me to ask the nurse to get you some water, Sean?"

Seeing Coop hesitate, Elizabeth asked, "Are you thirsty, Sean? Do you want a drink?"

Thirsty barely covers it, Ma, Coop thought he tried to swallow the sands of the Sahara while giving a quick blink.

"I'd say that's an emphatic reply!" said Dr. Buchanan as Nurse Taylor left the room without a word. Although of the newer ICU nurses, Nurse Taylor was proving herself to be one of the most efficient and compassionate, sensing the needs of the patients and her fellow staff often before words were even spoken.

Jimmy moved his chair back beside Elizabeth. "Hey, buddy," Jimmy whispered softly as he took a seat.

Coop moved his eyes away from his mother and came upon a white button down shirt he knew very well. He had seen it dozens of times during Saturday night poker games when the weather was still fine. Blinking away the haze that threatened to take him back out of the room, Coop narrowed his eyes as, button by button, his eyes drifted past Jimmy's collar and locked on Jimmy's.

Jimmy felt dizzy. Despite the sleepy, medicated glaze that still invaded his eyes,  _Coop_ was staring back at him. Not a broken man trying to race away from the partner who had betrayed him or someone in a blind panic as he realized the end to his life was almost upon him. But the person he loved and would do anything to switch places with if it meant forgiveness. Jimmy let out a soft laugh as a broad grin spread across his face.

 _Jimmy._ Coop felt his head clear as he and Jimmy continued to stare at one another. Those piercing eyes softening as they always did when they were alone got him every time and made all the personal risks he and Jimmy were taking to be happy totally worth it.  _But what the hell are we all doing here?!_

"Here we go!" said Nurse Taylor as she came back into the room, a large paper cup with a plastic straw in hand. "Now, if Dr. Buchanan wouldn't mind…"

"Doctor, nurse!" a skinny, red frizzy-haired resident with a dishevelled white coat panted from the doorway. "Situation in room six!"

"Sorry, y'all, be right back!" called Nurse Taylor as she and Dr. Buchanan rushed out of the room and into the hallway.

"They're just going to help another person, Sean," said Elizabeth as she saw the questioning, worried look on Coop's face. "You are on a floor equipped to handle all kinds of emergencies."

 _Then what the hell am I doing here?_ Coop tried to come up with some explanation for his being in the hospital, but the effort quickly took away the little control he had of his wits.

"Don't worry, Sean. We'll tell you when the time's right what happened," said Elizabeth, running a finger down Coop's cheek.

 _Just tell me already, Ma…_ The dull, nagging pain in his throat intensified as Coop tried to get the words out and he grimaced with frustration. Whatever had happened seemed to him seemed to have also captured his abilities along with it.

Seeing Coop's face tighten, Jimmy knew something was hurting. Coop's face bore the same expression it had when Robin had knocked a lamp over that had broken over Coop's bare foot about four months earlier. Though Coop had played off it off as a small cut when he shooed Jimmy out the door, Coop had still had to get five stitches across the top of his foot and had had to spin a tale at work about cutting himself with an axe. Though he knew stopping all of Coop's pain was impossible, Jimmy tried to think of some way to make it just a bit more bearable. That was the least he owed his best friend. His eyes fell upon the water cup Nurse Taylor had placed upon the table at the foot of the bed.

"Coop, buddy, you want some water now or do you want to wait for that nurse to get back?" asked Jimmy, getting up from his seat.

 _Do you even need to ask?!_ Blinking fiercely, Coop dared to hope salvation for his throat would be forthcoming.

"Jimmy, I think we should wait for the doctor to come back," said Elizabeth uncertainty.

"I think the two of us can give Coop some water with no problem," Jimmy countered as he tried to squeeze past Elizabeth. "Go ahead, Coop."

Coop tried to move his right arm and terror washed over him when it refused to budge.

"Sweetheart, you have to use your other hand," said Elizabeth gently, releasing Coop's hand and resting it on his chest. "You have a broken bone on your right side and the doctor has put something on it to make sure it stays still."

Too thirsty to give his mother's words any further thought, Coop made a feeble swipe for the cup, but his hand flopped back onto his mother's lap. Letting out a quiet grunt, Coop crunched his abdominal muscles and tried to force himself into a sitting position, but he only succeeded in getting his head a couple inches off the pillow as a sharp dagger was thrust into his chest and splintered into fragments throughout his torso.


	32. Moments Like This

What the hell had he just done? Stepped onto a hornet's nest so that he was now getting stung by a million of the insects at once? Or had he just fallen into Hell where he was being now being roasted with a hundred burning pokers?

No sound escaped from Coop's mouth. But his blotchy face and the pulse racing in his neck were clue enough to Jimmy and Elizabeth the magnitude of the pain Coop's futile efforts to sit up had unleashed.

Oh, God! Coop thought as he squeezed his eyes shut. White light began to eat away at the black refuge he had sought escape to. Tears formed in the corners of Coop's eyes.

Jimmy's palms became clammy and threatened to let the cup of water tumble to the floor.

Elizabeth gripped her son's hand and hoped the mayhem swirling in her heart wasn't evident."Sean, sweetheart," Elizabeth soothed. "Just listen to me and it'll stop. One, two, three…"

… _four, five, six._ Coop clenched his teeth hard and tried to keep pace with his mother's counting. A dim memory stirred inside him. In another lifetime when he had been three, his mother had done this same ritual to help calm him down after he had taken a nasty tumble down the cellar stairs.

"That's it, Sean," Elizabeth whispered. She ran a hand through her son's hair as Coop's rapid gasps became more regular. "I know this is hard, but I promise you it'll go away."

Slowly, Coop opened his eyes. He squinted at the buzzing, florescent light above his head. Breathing too deep or sudden still caused shivers of pain to sear through his chest before his body began to feel numb once more. Elizabeth's fingers gently rubbing his scalp almost caused Coop to drift away. The little movement he had done had almost burnt away the little fuel his body had supplied him with. Groggily, Coop shifted his gaze towards his mother's voice. Catching her eye, it was like staring into a mirror. Coop winced to see Elizabeth looking so terrified.

 _He's worried about me. Even after all he's going through!_ "Don't worry about me, Sean. I'll be okay," Elizabeth whispered. She tried to blink away the burning in her eyes. "You just focus on getting better and being brave. Just like when you went away to the war and did what had to be done. You have no idea how proud of you your father and I are. You've become the man we always hoped you'd be."

As gently as she could, Elizabeth plopped a kiss atop the perspiration glowing on Coop's forehead. For a long day and a half, Elizabeth's only wish had been for her son to go to the afterlife with knowledge of the love she had for him. To know Coop now heard her words was the greatest blessing she had ever received.

Though catching every word Elizabeth was speaking to Coop, Jimmy had gradually moved away to the wall. He had placed the cup of water on the table at the end of the bed. He felt like an intruder and Jimmy's guilt seared ever sharper.  _If only I hadn't let you go out there alone, Coop. Then none of this would be happening…_

"Jimmy?" Elizabeth's quiet voice ceased Jimmy's inner monologue.

"Mh-hmm?"

"Could you bring that water back over, please?" whispered Elizabeth. The cracked lines on Coop's lips reminded her of the only request Coop had expressed and it seemed unjust to not fulfill it.

"Sure," said Jimmy. He gripped the paper cup between two hands and headed back to where Elizabeth was seated.

Hearing Jimmy's heavy footsteps, Coop blinked. His eyes darted about until he spotted the cup bearing something that would taste even better than an icy beer on a broiling summer's day. He tried to wriggle his good hand out of his mother's grasp. Coop's eyes clouded when Elizabeth refused to let go.

Jimmy and Elizabeth stared at each other. Coop's earlier reach for the water had illustrated Coop hadn't the strength to bring the cup to his mouth without dumping water all over the bed.

"Here, Elizabeth, take it," said Jimmy quietly, a plan forming in his mind. "Hold the cup and keep the straw in place."

"Alright," said Elizabeth, getting to her feet. "But how's Sean going to reach it?" Elizabeth asked worriedly. Coop's eyes blazed and Elizabeth sensed his frustration level getting dangerously high as Coop made another weak swipe for the water.

"I'll help him," muttered Jimmy, sliding beside Elizabeth. He tried to figure out how to get beside Coop without disturbing the half dozen IV lines Coop's left arm and hand were tethered to. After some careful shifting, Jimmy managed to ease himself between one IV pole and Elizabeth's chair. "Coop, can you lift your head up a bit for me?" asked Jimmy. His palms began to sweat with a mixture of trepidation and longing.

Coop gave an unintelligible grunt he hoped Jimmy would understand as yes. Closing his eyes, sweat poured down Coop's forehead as he tried to force his head upwards.

Jimmy slipped an hand into Coop's damp hair. Jimmy felt his mouth go dry as he felt the muscles in Coop's neck begin to work. He couldn't help but let the tip of one finger gently run itself along the nape of Coop's neck as he helped prop his friend's head up.

"Here you go, sweetheart," Elizabeth whispered, bringing the straw to Coop's parched lips.

Hesitantly, Coop took a sip. He almost took a gasp when the lukewarm water hit his tongue and began to wash away the roughness. Taking a small swallow, Coop drank until a loud slurp indicated the cup was empty.

"There ya go, buddy," said Jimmy, easing Coop's head backwards until it was back on the pillow.

Coop licked his lips. His throat still stung, but the dryness had eased. "Th-thank y-you," said Coop in a hoarse whisper.

Jimmy let out a small chuckle. No other words had ever been so beautiful to him. "No problem."

Elizabeth wiped away a tear and put the empty cup on the table. "Are you okay now, sweetheart?"

Coop tried to give a small nod in his mother's direction, but his eyes began to feel heavy. "J-just t-tired, M-Ma…"

Elizabeth gripped Coop's hand. "It's alright, Sean. Just go back to sleep now, alright?"

Coop let out a small groan, but sleep once again got the upper hand. Coop was unconscious even before his eyelids slipped shut.

"That's it, Sean," Elizabeth whispered, putting his hand on the bed. "Just rest until this is all over."

Staring at Coop's slumbering form, Jimmy was startled when Elizabeth tapped him on the shoulder. "Sorry, Jimmy," Elizabeth whispered. She then let out a silent laugh. "I keep forgetting how late it is."

Scratching his head, Jimmy looked at his watch. "It's 9:30 in the morning."

Elizabeth stared and began to rub her dry eyes. "It's all starting to just melt and blend together. I still can't believe this is all happening."

"Me neither," Jimmy whispered, staring the floor. Just what the hell were any of them doing in a hospital room on a Monday morning? What would life be like if a crazy gunmen not stalked through the night shadows and vanished into the haze? It was easy. If things were still normal, Coop would have grudgingly been out on patrol with Owen Murphy and Jimmy would have been making the most of his vacation day to take Adam and Patty to the park. Afterwards, Jimmy would have pretended to watch his kids fight over the swings. But Jimmy would have really focused on concocting a plan to make it over to Coop's place that evening.

Studying Coop resting quietly, Elizabeth began chuckling softly. Hesitant to smile, Jimmy asked, "What's so funny?"

Elizabeth put a hand to her mouth and swallowed as her eyes became watery. "I was just thinking…a few hours ago all I wanted was for Sean to wake up, thinking everything would be okay when he did. But now…I'm just so glad he isn't hurting that I…don't…care how….long he sleeps…" Elizabeth's voice broke and she began to shiver. The train had avoided the journey to death she had prayed and prayed to avoid. But the runaway ride towards an uncertain future was even scarier.

Wordlessly, Jimmy gathered Elizabeth into arms, barely noticing her tears beginning to soak through his shirt and onto his chest. He too had never been more terrified. But he knew things couldn't happen any other way. What made him weak and almost broken was also his salvation.

* * *

_It had been a strange Saturday evening the weekend Coop had been laid up on the couch with bronchitis. For one brief spell in time, summer had gone away and mid-October had seemingly arrived in its place._

" _You cold, too?" asked Jimmy, coming into the den with two steaming bowls of spaghetti. He was surprised to see that Coop had changed into an old T-shirt and grabbed a flannel blanket._

" _A bit," Coop grumbled, struggling to close the den window against the strong wind swirling into the room. At last, the window slid to the right and closed with a satisfying thud. Letting out a dry cough, Coop flopped back onto the couch and pulled the blanket over his lap. "What do you wanna watch?"_

" _American Bandstand," said Jimmy instantly, putting the bowls on the coffee table. Switching on the TV, Jimmy turned the dial until he hit ABC._

_Coop let out a snort and began picking through his overcooked noodles. "You serious?"_

"Yeah _," said Jimmy, taking a seat beside Coop. He tried to balance his bowl on his knees. "There's nothing else on besides the re-runs we already hate."_

_Coop shrugged. "True enough," he said through a mouth full of pasta. "Think you could grab me a beer?"_

_Jimmy shook his head. "I looked all over the place. You got nothing. Not even a bottle of scotch!"_

_Coop stopped eating and scowled. "Damn! Forgot I ran out! And I could really use a drink right now!"_

_Jimmy groaned, though he was happy to spend some rare time with a sober Coop so he didn't have to question whether liquid courage was what was really fuelling his partner's affections. "There's alcohol in that cough syrup you've been chugging down."_

" _Yeah, right!"_

" _There is!" said Jimmy, trying to raise his voice above the din of a blaring headache commercial. "Adam read about it in the encyclopedia and told me!"_

_Coop laughed. He always got a kick out of the random bits of trivia Adam shared with him when he visited Jimmy's. "Yeah, that kid of yours is a bright one. Must get it from Eileen."_

_"You got a death wish?" Jimmy snarled. But Jimmy couldn't help grinning at Coop being a smartass. After all, it was a sure sign his partner was on the mend._

" _Nah..." said Coop, trailing off as he clenched his stomach and let out a low groan._

_Jimmy felt his heart do a flip-flop. "Coop…you okay?"_

" _Yeah…" Coop whispered, straightening up. A small grin came to his face. "It's just your cooking."_

_Jimmy gave Coop a hard punch on the shoulder and ducked to avoid the slap headed straight for the side of his head._

* * *

" _Not much promising talent tonight," Coop muttered, his eyes half closed._

" _Yeah," agreed Jimmy, "Blue Eyes" by Don Partridge not doing it for him, either. Jimmy bit his lip as he heard Coop's breathing become slow and heavy. "You ready to call it a night, Coop?"_

_Coop jerked upright as if Jimmy had shocked him with a live wire. "Hell no! Just was thinking I'd like to lie down for a bit if you weren't hogging up so much of the couch!"_

_Sunk back into the sofa with his feet resting on the coffee table, Jimmy rolled his eyes. He was reluctant to move when he was so comfortable. "Then just rest on me and quit your complaining! Otherwise you'll sit there and sulk all night!"_

_Deciding silence to Jimmy's remark to be his best option, Coop began to shift his body towards Jimmy. Then he stopped his movement; Jimmy initiating affection between them was such a rare occurrence Coop decided he had drifted off to sleep and his deepest desire of Jimmy tenderly caressing his skin was just another ghostly image that would fade away with the morning sun._

" _Well, Coop?"_

Fuck! This is real! " _I'm coming! Keep your shirt on!" Coop muttered, feeling like a fifteen year old on his first date. Taking as deep a steadying breath that his tortured lungs would allow, Coop threw his legs over the couch's armrest before resting his head on Jimmy's firm, warm lap._

_Jimmy brushed hair off of Coop's forehead and caught his partner's gaze. "You comfy?"_

_"Yep."_

_Jimmy shot Coop a rather uncharacteristic smirk. "Told you so!"_

" _Yeah," agreed Coop. Coop turned to his side and pretended to stare at the TV screen as Dick Clark got set to announce the next act. But his real fixation was on Jimmy's fingers slowly running themselves through his hair and gently massaging his scalp._   _It_   _was moments like this Coop began to feel that maybe life hadn't ended for him in a Vietnamese rice paddy. Perhaps things were now embarking towards the happiness Coop had long ago surmised was not ordained for him.  
_

* * *

_A chirpy woman touting the benefits of Dove soap over its competition roused Jimmy from his doze. Rubbing his eyes, Jimmy groaned. He tried to get to his feet to turn off the television, but was stopped by a heavy weight on his lap._

_Looking down, a bit of a grin turned up the edges of Jimmy's mouth. It hadn't taken long for Coop to fall asleep after resting on his lap, nor for Jimmy to quickly follow suit after going day and night for almost three days. Though Jimmy was used to his long shifts, sleep would still creep upon him when it had the chance.  
_

_Easing Coop's head off his lap, Jimmy was thankful once more about his partner's ability to sleep through nuclear war. Grabbing the pillow Coop had tossed onto the floor and placing it back on the couch, Jimmy shivered in the cool room and was about to pull the plaid blanket over Coop when he spotted a furry head look up at him sleepily from Coop's stomach._

" _Not sure how that bag of bones provides any damn warmth," Jimmy muttered as Robin started to go back to sleep. Jimmy's body ached with fatigue and his wrist cracked as he switched off the television and den light before making his way towards Coop's bedroom.  
_

* * *

_Crack!_

" _Yowl!"_

_Terrified by the thunder, Robin gave a loud screech and his claws digging into Coop's flesh made Coop wake up with a start as Robin leapt off him and dashed out of the den.  
_

" _Jesus!" Coop whispered, rubbing his stinging thighs as a bright flash of blue light filled the room. Within seconds, another loud snap of thunder echoed through the den. Rain began to drizzle down, making elaborate trails on the dusty window.  
_

_Coughing and getting to his feet, Coop decided to head to the kitchen for a hot drink. Then a sickening realization struck him: he had left the roof of his car open._

* * *

_Stretching lazily beneath Coop's quilt, Jimmy groaned as light flooded the room. Who the hell could be up at this hour? "Turn off the lights, would ya, Eileen?"_

" _I ain't your wife!" Coop shot back hotly, peeling off his wet T-shirt and boxers. He began rummaging around his dresser for dry ones that were clean. With work and thoughts of Eileen consuming so much of his time of late, laundry hadn't exactly been a priority on Coop's to do list the past while._

_Jimmy's face blazed as his eyes adjusted to the light. "Sorry, Coop. Forgot where I was."_

_Lugging on dry boxers and grabbing a towel off the back of his bedroom door, Coop gave Jimmy a shrug. "Don't worry about it."_

_Jimmy's brow furrowed. He couldn't help but stare at the water glistening off Coop's defined torso as Coop began toweling off his drenched face. "What the hell happened to you?!"_

" _Sorta forgot to pull the roof of my car up and it's raining out there," Coop explained. "Got her all safe for the night before it really began bucketing down luckily!" Patting his face dry, Coop tossed the damp towel to the floor._

" _Christ! You and that damn car, Coop! You wanna give yourself pneumonia next?"_

" _Give it a rest, Jimmy," muttered Coop, pulling on a dry T-shirt and rubbing heat back into his arms. "You're gonna put yourself into an early grave if you don't quit worrying so much about everything."_

_Jimmy sighed and let his head hit the pillow. "Well, if you wanna teach me how you don't worry about anything, Coop, I'm all ears."_

_Coop's mocking smirk transformed into a serious frown. "I do worry about stuff, Jimmy. A lotta stuff. I just don't let it bother me."_

" _Whatever you say, Coop," Jimmy mumbled sleepily._ You sorta left out your car and cat there. Hell, they might as well be your wife and kid!

" _Yeah, yeah."_

" _Yeah, yeah! Where the hell do you think you're going?" asked Jimmy as Coop doubled over into a coughing fit in the doorway._

" _To make some coffee."_

" _No way! Get your ass over here and get some_ _sleep!" Jimmy ordered, giving the empty spot beside him a loud pat._

_Coop shook his head. The dream of a few hours past was still too fresh and raw. "I' ain't tried. Christ, I've been sleeping for two days, Jimmy!"_

" _Bullshit, Coop! You couldn't even stay awake to the halfway point of-!"_

" _Fine!" Coop snapped, ending Jimmy's rant. Coop grabbed the quilt away from Jimmy, the rickety mattress squeaking as he hopped into bed. "Go turn out the lights!"_

" _Hey, YOU turned them on!"_

_Closing his eyes, Coop jerked a finger towards the light switch._

_Jimmy glared at Coop, but decided to comply with his partner's command; the quicker Jimmy gave in, the sooner they both could get some sleep before the end of the millennium arrived.  
_

* * *

" _Ahhh! Get the fuck outta here you commie bastard!"_

_Jimmy's eyes flew open. He felt the comforter begin to slide off his chest. Jimmy sat bolt upright as more and more of his body was exposed to the chilly night air filtering in through the window he had neglected to close. "Coop?"_

_Yelling incoherently, Coop continued to pull the quilt away from Jimmy. He began to strangle the cotton between tightened, clenched hands._

Jesus!  _Jimmy's heart began to pound, each beat ricocheting off his ribs and shaking his chest. Forcing his quivering arm to remain still, Jimmy began to shake Coop's shoulder. Long ago, his mother had taught him this move to help his father escape the night terrors that had insisted on haunting him into daytime naps._

_Feeling icy fingers on his shoulder, Coop felt his throat close up. He knew now that the blood drenched solider looming over him was not about to listen to his threats or pleas for mercy._

" _Coop!" Jimmy shouted, jerking Coop's shoulder fiercely. "Wake up! It's me!"_

" _You're who?" Coop boomed, sitting up and grabbing Jimmy's wrist. Coop's cellar and the slain Vietcong soldier disappeared into a black shadow. Coop tried to make sense of the new figure in front of him before complete hysteria blocked everything out.  
_

" _It's Jimmy, Coop," said Jimmy softly, trying to pry Coop's fingernails out of his skin. The line in him separating the little boy from the man was frailer than ever._

" _Jimmy?" Coop asked in a raspy whisper, his wild eyes reflecting in the glare from a nearby streetlight._

" _Yeah, just Jimmy. Nobody else."_

_Catching Jimmy's gentle gaze, the terror that had consumed Coop faded. No devil ghost was looming in the shadows to shoot him. Slowly, Coop eased his grip on Jimmy's arm and his panic-stricken gaze began to calm. Coop's teeth chattered as the damp air began cool the sweat pouring down his face.  
_

Fuck, God. Can't you let Coop sleep in peace just once in a while?  _"It's over, Coop," said Jimmy quietly, swinging his arm around Coop's shivering shoulders. "Just come over here."_

_Working up some saliva and swallowing it down against his barren throat, Coop nestled his head into Jimmy's chest. He allowed the other man to pull him downward until they both lay down._

_Jimmy eased his other arm around Coop's back as Coop's beard stubble pricked his naked chest. With a grunt, Jimmy managed to wrestle the quilt over himself and Coop, hoping it would shield his partner from visions he couldn't even begin to comprehend.  
_

_The rapid rise and fall of Coop's chest slowed into a regular pattern as the loud, even thumping from Jimmy's heart soothed his frayed nerves. Feeling warmth seeping back into his body, Coop let out a loud cough.  
_

" _You okay, Coop?" Jimmy whispered. His hand crept Coop's head and began to idly run itself through Coop's damp, tangled hair._

_Coop gave a small nod as his own hand began to trail itself through Jimmy's light dusting of chest hair. Shifting his head atop Jimmy's sternum, Coop began trailing his soft lips along the out ridge of Jimmy's strong right pectoral._

_Pulling Coop up closer, Jimmy gave his partner a kiss on the top of his head._

* * *

_Raw. Passionate. Lustful. There was really no word Jimmy could use to describe that first night of sex. But it had been a sharp division on the journey he and Coop had begun only a month before. For the first time in recent memory, Jimmy's worries had lain fallow without the aid of alcohol and he now knew. He was now certain what had happened hadn't just been too many built up emotions or being drunk. Coop, not Eileen, was Jimmy's sun and Jimmy couldn't help but gravitate towards him. In cold, dark uncertainty, Coop had provided warmth and light; Jimmy's life now rose and set around him. All of his mistakes and the difficult times in his life had disappeared on the night Coop had first kissed him and Jimmy had to do all he could to let the sun continue to burn bright._

* * *

_Unplanned and spontaneous. Most nights Coop went to the bars to pick up women, he had a plan: buy them drinks, chat them up, take them home, and fuck. Sex was a thing calculated, all the moves there, but devoid of all feeling._

_With Jimmy had been different. Everything had fallen into place and with it every caress and grunt had felt right and natural like the way Coop had always dreamed sex would someday be. And as he had laid on Jimmy's sticky chest, the other man's recovering breathing had lulled Coop into a restful dreams he could hoped would come to fruition._

* * *

Shaking his head clear, Jimmy released Elizabeth from his arms and tried to dry her eyes with his hand. Jimmy's well-intentioned effort succeeded only in streaking the moisture across Elizabeth's face. But Elizabeth laughed as she wiped her eyes dry on Jimmy's shirtfront. "I…I'm sorry, Jimmy."

"It's okay," said Jimmy, rubbing his eyes. "You're tired." His stomach growled. "Do you want something to eat, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth tried to make sense of Jimmy's question. She was exhausted; the stress had long begun to wear her down and the lack of sleep fogged her eyes. Her stomach turned at the mere thought of food. Little made sense anymore. Even her last conversation with the doctor had made her feel like a babbling idiot.

Jimmy led Elizabeth back over to her chair when he didn't get an answer. "You stay here with Coop. I'll go to the cafeteria and grab us something."

Elizabeth reached for her purse and she flushed scarlet. "I…don't have…my purse."

"It's okay. I got some money in my wallet," said Jimmy, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans.

Heading into the hallway and towards the elevator, Jimmy took little notice of the nurses and doctors darting past him. He was fixated on how close he had come to losing everything. If Coop had faded and simply become a beautiful star in the heavens, he would have been left to spin off into the void. Adrift from the force that had provided his warmth and light. Jimmy shuddered as the elevator signaled its arrival. The lonely place of death had loomed so close when he had been forced to realize he needed Coop more than Coop needed him. He only hoped he could do justice in his new role now that things were reversed.

* * *

"I don't believe you, Roy!"

"I'm telling you, Harry, I got it!" a piping voice cried.

Serge blinked. He was uncertain how long he had been sitting in the filthy alleyway beside a putrid dumpster. Even the scrawny stray cat that had tried to make friends with him in hopes of getting a meal had given up as the sun's rays had grown strong.

Rapid footsteps transformed into two kids that puberty had scarcely begun to touch. A sleazy grin came across the face of the one with chestnut hair growing into his eyes. He reached into the back pocket of bleached, torn jeans and pulled out a copy of  _Playboy._ He was delighted to have proven his friend Harry wrong.

"Aw, man, you weren't kidding," said Harry. His hand began creeping down his pants in anticipation before the clang of metal jerked his attention away from the magazine's luscious cover.

"Ah, a dirty old perv! Let's get out of here!" said Roy suddenly, spotting Serge clinging to the dumpster in an effort to get to his feet. Grabbing his frozen friend, Roy pulled Harry by the arm out of the alley and back towards the bustling road.

As the boys disappeared, Serge felt some of his wits begin to recoup as his mission once again became clear.


	33. A Parent's Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to thank reader Tan Poh Keng for providing me with some inspiration for this chapter.

Letting go of the dumpster, Serge found himself still unsteady. With a sigh, he leaned against a dirty brick wall. Though almost three decades had passed since he had started with the Philadelphia Police Department in this precinct, aspects of it had changed very little. The same buildings still lined the boulevards that had been well-kept and pristine in another century. But as time had progressed, the young, working class families that had patronized the area had slowly disappeared.

 _Best thing that ever happened to me was getting away from this bloody hellhole!_ Serge's lips twisted into a bitter smile as he crammed his hands into his pockets. So much of his life seemed tied into this neighbourhood's transformation. When the crimes had become more sinister, his patrols had gotten longer. Broken promises about attending Coop's Little League games had become the norm rather than the exception. By the time Coop was ten, Serge had stopped making promises to his family. The few times Serge _did_ make it to events were rare, unexpected treats.

But for many years, Serge had surmised it hadn't mattered to his family. Elizabeth had grown away from him, becoming wrapped up in her own activities after Michael's death. Coop also hadn't seemed in need of him; after all, Serge's father had eagerly stepped into the role Serge had vacated.

* * *

" _Come on, son. It's time to go," Serge had muttered testily. The shift that day in July 1951 had been a long double and Serge had had an extra cup of coffee before heading for home. But the effects had already ceased by the time he had reached his father's apartment._

_Eight-year-old Sean studied his father's dark, wrinkled tie. "Aw, Pop. Do I gotta? Pop Pop was just gonna read to me!"_

" _Was just GOING to read to you, Sean!" William Cooper admonished from his easy chair. He shot Sean a stern look over his thick reading glasses. No grandson of his was going to develop lazy grammar or speech habits if he could prevent it._

" _Sean, quit arguing with me! Your poor grandfather's been looking after you all day! This is the first evening I've had off in a week and your mother wants us_ both _home for dinner! That's part of being a family, ya know," Serge mumbled. With a frown, Serge stole a glance around his father's den. A cramped space smelling of old, musty books, Serge failed to see the appeal the room held for his son. At home, Sean would every spare second outside, playing baseball or marbles with friends._

_Seeing the cold look in Serge's eyes, Sean knew there was little point trying to discuss things further. His father never listened to him. With a sigh, Sean padded over to his grandfather. He began to hand back the worn copy of Macbeth his grandfather had asked him to fetch._

_William pushed the book back at his grandson. "Sean, keep that. I want you to read Act I of that tonight. When you come here tomorrow, I'll have the test ready for you. Remember, I expect nothing less than one hundred percent!"_

_As Sean had given his grandfather a sharp nod, Serge's mouth had become set into a firm, cold line. Although he had only just completed second grade, Sean had already proven himself to be the able student his father never was. William Cooper had pounced upon his grandson's intellect hungrily. Although he knew it would be a struggle for Shakespeare's words to compete with baseball, William hoped, with the right encouragement, it would lead to Sean having a more fulfilling life than his own._

* * *

Now, the same, hard grimace was etched into Serge's face. It had been ten years since William had lost a brief, valiant battle with lung cancer. Though Coop had never spoken of it, Serge had sensed how his son had felt when suddenly deprived of his greatest mentor. Adrift on an unforgettable desert island with no knowledge of how to get back to the mainland. A way of being neither had been prepared for.

 _But what father is ever prepared to outlive their son?_ Serge certainly hadn't been when Michael had passed away. After the doctor had told him and Elizabeth their son had died that morning while they'd been at church, all he had known of fatherhood had been swept away. What he was still capable of was working and providing. Was it little wonder that the station had become his salvation before Michael's funeral had even occurred?

 _God._ Serge felt his neck bend like a fragile stem. So many chances had arisen for him to draw nearer to the child he had still had. Even if they would never _really_ understand one another like he and Michael had. Now it was too late. His son's body may still be resting at Penn General, but the person he had hoped to know had long since flown away.

 _Well…I can still do one thing._ The bitter line was once again prominent as a chilly calm filled Serge's hollow resolve.

* * *

Feeling cozy beneath his quilt, Coop hesitated to open his eyes. Peaceful nights of sleep eluded him so often it was great to enjoy sleep for a change.

"Coop?" a soft voice called.

Sighing, Coop opened his eyes. Confusion flooded his features when he spotted Danny seated mere feet away.

Leaning forward on the blue vinyl chair he had dragged from the kitchen, a relieved grin came to Danny's face. He had begun to think Coop would never come to.

Sitting up, Coop felt like his head had been invaded with a dozen heavy rocks. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs.

"Feeling better, now?" asked Danny, offering Coop the glass of water he had fetched for himself.

Coop drained the glass before answering Danny. He couldn't remember his throat ever feeling so dry. "What the hell are you going on about?" Coop muttered, clenching the glass between his fingertips.

Danny bit his lip, uncertain of how to bring up Coop's latest side trip. "Uh, you were just so tired when you got back I just led you in here. Figured you needed some sleep, Coop. You remember any of that?"

Coop shook his head and put the empty glass on the side table beside his broken alarm clock. "No. I sure as hell remember everything else, though!"

Danny sighed, hoping there were parts Coop had forgotten. _  
_

Coop got to his feet and turned his back on Danny. He made his way over to the window and stared outside into his backyard. Aside from the grass needing cutting, he was proud of the resurfacing job he had done on his concrete patio. "You'd better have a good explanation for that shit you guys just put me through, Danny!"

"Coop, it's nothing _we_ put you through. Not specifically, anyways."

Crossing his arms, Coop felt his mouth go hard. He turned to face Danny and couldn't help but feel satisfaction when Danny ducked his head. "Bullshit! You trying to tell me you got no explanation for…for…"

"The pain?" Danny interjected. He felt his heart sink when Coop gave him a quick nod. "Think of it this way, Coop. When you break a bone, it hurts, right?"

"Of course! But I don't see what that has to do with this!" Coop boomed. Hesitantly, he began to make his way towards Danny.

Danny's face went calm. It never ceased to amaze him how pressure transformed his meek personality. "Well, think about it. You got shot _twice_ , Coop! And had who-knows-what injured. Did you think that once you got back it would be all wine and roses?"

Coop froze and lowered his head. _Hell no! Nothing is ever that easy for me!_ "I guess…I guess I just didn't think it would be so hard," Coop admitted, taking a seat on the bed. His stubborn anger had fled so quick Coop began to wonder just how much of himself would make it through this whole ordeal intact.

Danny sighed and paced over to the window. The calm summer day staring back at him had to be the biggest farce of recent memory. "I _did_ warn you it wouldn't be easy. That you wouldn't just be hopping out of bed and that everything would be perfect."

"I know," Coop whispered. "But...I know I can handle it."

"You can," Danny affirmed to the window. "There's a lot of stuff I can't tell you, Coop. Partly because of the rules I'm bound to and partly because there are a lot of things I'm still trying to understand about all this myself. But I do know the Boss doesn't pick weak people to endure this sort of thing." Danny turned away from the window and made his way back over to Coop. "So what I _do_ know the reward you get at the end of all this will be worth what you're going through now."

Coop began chewing a fingernail. It seemed strange such a nervous habit was popping up _now_ after all of what he had experienced the past day-and-a-half. But one of his greatest fears refused to be suppressed any longer.

Danny permitted himself a tight smile. "I haven't seen you do that since that best of seven final game."

Coop grinned. Pitching that no hitter in the final game of a hotly contested series remained one of his greatest memories. "It's just…I hate seeing Ma looking the way she did. Is there no way you guys can make this easier for her?"

Danny shook his head and scuffed a shoe along the carpet. "A mother's love is something we don't any have control over."

Coop sighed and flopped back onto the bed. "I guess that that'll be over soon enough. I bet that's what you're trying to tell me, ain't it?"

Danny's mind became foggy and he resolved to make himself a coffee once Coop had cleared things up for him. "You're going to have to help me on this one. Because I really have no idea what it is you're trying to say."

"Nothing," Coop muttered, beginning to stare at the ceiling. He hoped the blankness above his head would now seep into his subconscious and devoid himself of all feeling.

* * *

"Is that all you're gonna eat, Elizabeth?"

Looking up from the greasy, styrofoam container, Elizabeth nodded. The shepherd's pie Jimmy had brought up from the hospital cafeteria tasted like cardboard. It had been an effort to swallow down even two mouthfuls.

Wordlessly, Jimmy got to his feet and gathered up both the containers. Tossing them into the small bin near the door, Jimmy hoped he would keep down what he had consumed. The grey lumps of meat had been greasy, the corn and potatoes tasteless, but they had gone a long way towards filling up the pit in his stomach.

Take a quick sip of the stale coffee Jimmy had bought, Elizabeth shifted her way back to Coop's bed. She slipped her hand into his and brushed hair away from his forehead. She still found it hard to believe how things had gone full circle. _All I wanted was for you to be awake, sweetheart. That seemed the answer to all our prayers. But all I want now for you is to not hurt…God…_ Tears formed in Elizabeth's eyes. But she welcomed them, hoping the salty water would ease the burning that refused to cease.

Rubbing his eyes, Jimmy kept his eyes on the floor as he came behind Elizabeth. Looking at Coop too long reminded him of the pain that had twisted his friend's battered face only an hour before.

A black hole had formed in the back of Jimmy's mind as he'd gone down to the cafeteria. He had already condemned himself as a weak, selfish man in the aftermath of Coop's shooting. He had since vowed to do whatever necessary to cleanse himself of that distinction should Coop make his way back to him. But Jimmy now wondered if begging God for Coop to endure pure agony for _his_ sakes was just another act in the saga of his betrayal.

Seeing Elizabeth's tears, Jimmy stole back to the table at the foot of Coop's bed where they had tried to eat an early lunch. He grabbed a tissue from the box Nurse Taylor had given to him when, upon coming back to the ICU floor, he had realized that he had neglected to grab napkins from the cafeteria.

Ignoring the itchy throbbing from his lip, Jimmy offered the tissue to Elizabeth without a word.

"Thanks, Jimmy," Elizabeth whispered. She dabbed her eyes and crumbled the tissue.

Jimmy studied Elizabeth's exhausted face. He tried to remember the last time he had seen Elizabeth escape into even the briefest of dozes. But he couldn't. Jimmy put a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "You're tired."

Elizabeth almost burst out laughing. _Tired isn't the half of it!_ "I'm okay," Elizabeth whispered. "As long as Sean's alright, I am, too."

Trying to pretend he hadn't caught Elizabeth omitting Serge, Jimmy blinked hard. "I think it's time you took a break, Mrs. C- Elizabeth."

Elizabeth tried to gain bearings amongst the stress that had ground her wits into a pulp. "How on earth would I do that, Jimmy?"

Jimmy felt his cheeks go hot. "Ya know…go home for a bit…shower…change?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I left the room once and look what happened! I'm not doing that again!"

Jimmy tried to remember what Father Mack had urged Elizabeth to do in that tense twilight in the waiting room. "You can't help Coop if you're not in good shape yourself." Jimmy's mouth went dry. "It's just…I think you'll feel better if you go home for a bit. Besides, Coop ain't gonna be by himself. I'll stay here." _Though I get that isn't much comfort._

Elizabeth stared at the blue blanket that hid most of Coop's wounds. Jimmy's offer tempted her more than she cared to admit. Despite the bright white walls of Coop's room, the semi-darkness from the closed window blinds made the crapped room feel even narrower. Several times, Elizabeth had had to close her eyes and take a deep breath in fear she would pass out onto the hard linoleum floor.

Jimmy crammed a hand into his jeans pocket to keep himself from picking at his stitches. "At the very least, Elizabeth… go outside and get some fresh air. You've pretty much not left this room since we got here!"

Wearily, Elizabeth turned to face Jimmy. Jimmy had the uncanny ability to read a situation even without words being spoken. In a way, Jimmy almost reminded her of Michael; unlike his older brother, Michael had always approached new situations wearily. The only exception had been when balls were involved and Michael had become a fearless warrior. In this game they were now forced into, Jimmy was doing his best to bring them all to victory.

As Michael's hazel eyes vanished back into some distant recess, Elizabeth rose to her feet. All at once, she _had_ to get away from the overpowering smells of antiseptics and the place that she had long since only associated with death; how Coop had managed to outwit it thus far was nothing short of miraculous.

"You going to go, then?" asked Jimmy softly.

Elizabeth nodded. "Just outside for a bit. I'd go home to change, but…I…"

"…left your purse at home," Jimmy finished. Jimmy began digging into his back pocket and almost grinned when he was successful in fishing out his wallet. He pulled out a ratty five dollar bill. "Here. Should be enough to get you there and back."

Elizabeth hesitated. "Jimmy…it's your own money…"

Jimmy shrugged. _Very least I owe you guys._ "It's fine. Sure beats you trying to walk. Probably hot as hell out there by now." Jimmy ducked his head and bit his tongue. _You idiot! How could you curse in front of Coop's mother!_

For her part, Elizabeth didn't seem to notice the slip of Jimmy's tongue as she took the money. "Thank you, Jimmy. You promise to stay here with Sean, no matter what?"

Jimmy nodded. "You got my word. No matter what that doctor says, I'm staying here 'til you get back, Elizabeth."

"Thanks, Jimmy," Elizabeth whispered. Her throat felt dry as she began to head to the hallway. She paused; just what way had they come up?

"Elevator's to the right," Jimmy called. He had shuffled over to the table to grab the newspaper he had bought in the small store next to the hospital cafeteria.

With a grateful nod, Elizabeth disappeared into the hallway and Jimmy found himself alone. Dr. Buchanan and a nurse Jimmy had not previously seen had performed Coop's vital check only twenty minutes before. Thus, Jimmy knew it would be a while before he and Coop were disturbed.

Rolling the paper up between his hands, Jimmy plopped himself down onto Elizabeth's vacated seat. Since he had previously been left alone with Coop, all his fears had done a one-eighty.

* * *

_Placing the styrafoam containers at the foot of Coop's bed, Jimmy had wrestled a box of tissues and newspaper out of the crook of his elbow. Tossing them on the chair Father Mack had used, Jimmy had blown heat out of his fingertips. It had been a challenge hauling up all that he had purchased. But Jimmy had felt a sense of accomplishment that the waiter skills he had learned at eighteen were still intact._

_Elizabeth's stomach had churned as the smell of meat had begun to mix with the antiseptics. Whatever she was still capable of feeling, hunger had long vanished from the equation._

" _Got us some shepherd's pie," Jimmy mumbled, taking a swig of coffee. He frowned as stale bitterness filled his mouth._

" _Thank you," whispered Elizabeth, her gaze shifting to Coop. After the pain she had watched him endure, her mind only rested when she saw her son's face had resumed its pale calm._

" _How's he been?" asked Jimmy._

" _The same. Just resting peacefully," said Elizabeth, stroking Coop's cheek. The stubble from Coop's beard pricked the back of her hand, but a tender smile formed in Elizabeth's tired face. No matter what the passage of time did, Sean would always be her little boy._

_Jimmy nodded and he stared at the floor. Since heading down the cafeteria, something had been nagging at him. Despite the hell he had been forced to watch unfold before him, it had relieved Jimmy, too. "I'm glad he's resting. But it's good to know he's still fighting," Jimmy said quietly._

_Elizabeth dropped her hand. "How do you mean, Jimmy?"_

_Jimmy sighed. He hadn't meant for Elizabeth to hear him. "I just mean…we know Coop's still fighting. It killed me to see him hurting like that, but at least I know Coop's still in there. Whatever happens now, Coop has to fight. He can't give up."_

_Elizabeth had put a hand to her mouth. "All Sean knows how to do is fight, Jimmy. He's never been able to stand losing."_

* * *

_So true. It doesn't matter how bad something looks or what he's told not to do. Coop's answer is always fight, fight, fight! And if that doesn't work, fight some more!_

Jimmy studied Coop's face. In spite of cuts, feeding tube, and bandage, Coop had never seemed more handsome to him. Perhaps that was why doubt had haunted him until recently. Despite his words to the contrary to Serge, Jimmy had wondered just _what_ his bitter words one late July night had left Coop's soul to fight for.

Jimmy gave Coop's cool hand a gentle brush. _Whatever happens…you're not in this alone, buddy. I just hope you can forgive me someday._ With a bite of his tongue, Jimmy unfolded the newspaper on his lap. Doing his best to avoid stories of the war or baseball, the print began to melt together as Jimmy's eyelids slipped shut.

* * *

Danny gave Coop a sharp poke on the cheek.

"Ouch! What the hell did ya do that for?!" Coop demanded, sitting up on his bed.

Sinking into crinkly blue vinyl, Danny shrugged. "Couldn't think of any other way to chase away the Master of Silence."

Coop's eyebrows knitted together. "Who's that?"

"You."

"Me!?"

"Yup," Danny confirmed, rolling a cigarette between his fingers absently. "You always go quiet when you're sulking or thinking about something."

Coop studied hair on the back of his hands. "I wasn't sulking!"

"I know. Just another one of those demons trying to escape out your mouth, I bet,"said Danny. He began to reach for his lighter until the look Coop gave him froze his hand.

"Put that thing away, Danny." Coop didn't take care to hide the malice in his voice.

"Okay, okay. Keep your shirt on!" Danny mumbled, stuffing the cigarette back into its packet.

Coop smirked. He couldn't let this one slide. "You _wish_ I'd take my shirt off for ya, Danny!"

Danny's face went beet red as he groaned. "And you know damn well I've never seen you _that_ way!"

Coop chuckled. "I know it. I just couldn't let this one go by when you set yourself up so perfectly!"

Danny's face began to resumeits stoic façade. "Breaks the ice, anyways."

Coop ducked his head. "I got no idea what you mean."

"Sure you do. The secret sickness is never far from the surface when it makes up so much of who you are," Danny shot back drily. He arched his back over his chair and felt annoyance when it refused to release the tension in his spine.

"Hey! I don't think of us as sick!" yelled Coop, jumping to his feet and waving a fist menacingly.

"I know." Danny straightened up and gave Coop an appraising stare. "You came to terms with that a long time ago. But the fear's still there."

Coop sat down on the corner of the bed. "Danny, do you got any idea how stupid you sound right now? Let's recap what I'm going through! I've had Pop and Jimmy pretty much tell me I'm dead to them. I've got Ma worrying herself almost to death about me…"

"I know it!" Danny interrupted sharply. "But now you're scared you mother _won't_ be worrying about you soon!"

Coop's body went numb. "Why the hell would I want that, Danny? It doesn't make any fucking sense!"

"Sure it does! Because if your mother is worried about you, it means she hasn't found out what you are!" Danny winced as he saw the colour drain from Coop's face, but made himself continue. "You're terrified that if she figures out what's going on between you and Jimmy, that that will be the end of what you two share," whispered Danny softly. Getting up, Danny took a seat beside Coop and swung an arm over his friend's hunched shoulders.

"You some sort of mind reader too, Danny?" Coop asked in a quiet monotone. He still couldn't quite grasp _how_ Danny knew all his thoughts. But Coop was beginning to realize it was a deeper connection that either of them could understand. For all their differences, what had threaded him and Danny together ever since an accidental encounter had been the fears and desires Coop had done his best to pretend didn't exist.

"No. But give me a bit of credit here, Coop. I know _exactly_ what you're going through. We both met our demises in a world of hate. Where we diverge is where you couldn't accept that it was all over!"

Coop swallowed and stared into Danny's intense light brown eyes. He shivered as he tried to shift out of Danny's grasp. He had almost forgotten Danny was dead, his body rotting away in some Milwaukee cemetery. _If I'm sitting here talking to a dead guy…hell…does that mean I'm…_

"You're alive, Coop. I promise," said Danny. "I know it's hard to wrap your head around when you're here again talking to me. But you know I wouldn't lie to you about this sort of thing."

"I know," Coop whispered, folding his hands together. "It's just…well…the only two people I've ever been able to rely on in my _whole_ life were Pop Pop and Ma. Once Pop Pop died, I just had Ma left. You already know how I feel about Pop. I ain't getting into that again."

Danny nodded. There was time enough to talk about Brogan Cooper as Coop's new life continued to unfold. "I remember meeting your mother that one time. She's a great lady."

Coop looked at the rough weave of his jeans. "What am I gonna do when she's gone, Danny?"

Danny pursed his lips. "Well, I can't give you an exact date, Coop, but your mother won't be leaving Earth for quite some time yet."

Coop shook his head. "You got no idea what I mean, do you, Danny?"

Danny sighed. _Didn't I just tell you this a few minutes ago, Coop. But you never listen to me right away. That's definitely not changed!_ "I know exactly what you mean, Coop. I said it already. You didn't absorb it, I guess. You think your mother's going to go the way of your father, don't you?"

Coop nodded. "She doesn't know yet. Otherwise, Ma wouldn't be in that hellhole crying over me. Doesn't she realize it ain't worth it once she knows the truth?"

Danny removed his arm from Coop and headed back to his chair. He let out a whistle as he began looking up at the ceiling. "No, your mother doesn't know the full picture. Yet. But she's more astute than you think her to be, Coop."

Coop let out an angry groan. "You know I hate it when you're cryptic like this!"

"The rules are unfortunately complicated, Coop. There's a lot of stuff I can't tell you. It's just things you're going to have to realize for yourself."

Coop began rubbing his eyes, his energy draining out of him like the last bit of water from a bathtub.

Once again, Danny helped Coop lean backwards until his friend's head was upon his pillow. "Anyways, going between two worlds is making you exhausted." Danny pulled the striped blue quilt up to Coop's shoulders. "Just take it easy for a while, okay, Coop?"

Without protest, Coop let his eyes close.

* * *

" _Jimmy!"_

" _Mm-hmm?" Jimmy mumbled, trying to make sense of where the loud voice and shaking was coming from. Was Elizabeth already back?_

_Coop took his left hand off Jimmy's shoulder and knelt in front of Jimmy. "Thought you'd never wake up!"_

_Jimmy's eyes widened in shock as he caught sight of Coop's vacant hospital bed. "Coop, what the fuck are you doing?!"_

" _What does it look like? Coop shot back, ripping his right arm out of its sling. His hand now free, Coop began to pull IV lines out of his left arm and hand._

" _Coop, are you fucking insane..."_

_Coop put an index finger to Jimmy's lips. He smirked as Jimmy fell silent. "Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy. Still worrying about everything, I see! Don't ya trust me to have taken care of everything?"_

_Jimmy's heart began to beat so fast that he wondered why he had yet to faint. If a doctor or nurse saw Coop…_

_Coop came back into Jimmy's line of vision, dressed in faded blue jeans and a black T-shirt. "Well, you ready to go?"_

_Jimmy felt his eyebrows shoot up. "Go where?"_

" _Vegas!"_

" _VEGAS?! What the hell are we gonna do over there?"_

" _Get married, of course!" Coop gave Jimmy another condescending grin. There was a good reason he was the smart one of the "Dynamic Duo."_

" _Married?! But I'm…I'm…"_

"… _already married and there's something about the law saying we can't, right?" Coop supplied, ripping a bandage off his face._

" _Yeah." Jimmy's voice was barely audible._

" _Why do you think we're going to Sin City? Everything else is legal there!"_

_Jimmy began to slide down in his chair. "But you can't leave here. You're…you're…"_

" _Been shot twice?" Coop shrugged and gave Jimmy a nonchalant shake of his head. "You think I'd let a small thing like that stop me?"_

_Jimmy gave his head a small shake._

" _Didn't think so!" Coop leaned in and gave Jimmy a passionate kiss that took both of their breaths away. "Now quit talking and get your ass up here!"_

_When Jimmy didn't respond, Coop gripped Jimmy's wrist and pulled him upwards._

* * *

Jimmy's right leg stiffened just in time to prevent himself from crashing to the floor. His heart beating wildly, Jimmy wiped cold drool from his lips as he forced himself to look at Coop's bed. He began to calm when he spotted Coop still laying tucked under the blanket, sound asleep.

 _God, I'm finally beginning to crack!_ Licking his lip, Jimmy withdrew his tongue when the stitches began to throb, Jimmy picked up the newspaper that had slipped from his lap. He stole another glance at Coop's face. He closed his eyes and counted to three; it he hadn't known better, he would have sworn the corners of Coop's mouth were forming into a smirk.

Once certain his head was clear, Jimmy looked at Coop once more. He shook his head; Coop's lips hadn't budged. It was just lack of sleep and worry beginning to overtake what was left of his better judgment.

Trying to remember where he had left off reading, Jimmy began to flip through the paper idly. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Jimmy sensed he was no longer in the room alone. But he couldn't recall hearing Dr. Buchanan's heavy, dragging footsteps padding up behind him . Turning around slowly, he tried to catch a glimpse of which nurse or doctor had made their way into the room this time. But no one was there to greet Jimmy's hazy eyes.

His hands began to tremble as Jimmy turned back around. The paper fell to his lap. Coop was staring back at him with a fiery, puzzled gaze.


	34. The Beacon

"Coop? You awake?" Jimmy said quietly, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

His eyes stinging, moisture welled up in Coop's eyes and Coop hoped his quick blinking would help clear his vision. Stumbling through fog, Jimmy's words were like a lighthouse beacon directing the way to shore as Coop tried to gather his wits and figure out where he was. What the hell sort of question is that, Jimmy? "Of cour-," Coop began before the s caught in his throat and ground his words to a halt.

But the damage was done; the brief raspy words sent Jimmy spiraling back towards the night his entire world had been destroyed.

"We were the lucky ones. Don't forget that."

Walkie talkie clenched tightly in hand, the buildings whizzing by froze into a blurry blob. No longer was Jimmy riding shotgun beside a rookie named Joe desperately trying to maintain control of a police cruiser his first week on the job. He was in Nowhere Land, a barren, desolate landscape now that the Sun had died and burned away all life with its demise.

How could he have done it? Run away like a coward so easily when his partner had fought so hard for them both to be happy? Why…

In an effort to break up the dam clogging choking his words, Coop tried to clear his throat. As soon as the first tickle hit his vocal cords, Coop instantly regretted it as a sharp pang of agony invaded his chest. Scattering like the sound waves from a hammer's pounding, Coop's body became a tortured bundle of searing nerves. Screwing his eyes shut, blinding white light hit him so hard that Coop almost lost his breath as his body broke out in sweat. As the pain grew stronger, Coop stiffened backwards, letting out a low moan as the muscles in his chest rippled in time to each burst of pain.

Fuck! The noise from Coop jarred Jimmy loose from his flashback and within seconds instinct directed Jimmy's actions. "Coop, easy!" directed Jimmy, pinning Coop's left arm to the bed so he wouldn't snap any IV lines. "It'll be over in a sec. Just listen to my voice and breath. One, two, three…"

…four, five, six. Timing his breathing to the steady flow of Jimmy's words, the spasms of pain became further apart and Coop opened his eyes. He began to shiver as cool air drifting in from the hallway hit his face and the bare areas of his chest.

Grabbing hold onto a wad of tissue, Jimmy began to mop perspiration from Coop's forehead with one of the napkins from the lunch he and Elizabeth had barely consumed. "That's it, Coop. Nice and easy."

The horrible episode over, Coop was master of his mind at last as his vision finally cleared. But confusion still reigned supreme. Where the hell am I? Coop let out a groan; his focus was now on the achy scratchiness in the back of his throat that worsened with each bit of thick saliva he tried to swallow.

Jimmy bit his tongue, hoping the pain would keep him focused. "Need some water?" Jimmy asked, cramming the damp napkin into his back pocket.

Coop tried to speak, but his vocal cords refused to cooperate. Fearful he would unleash another wave of pain, Coop managed to give Jimmy a weak nod of his head.

"Okay, buddy." Looking around the room, Jimmy wondered how he would be able to come up with water on such short notice. Then he let out a sigh of relief as he headed over to the table at the foot of Coop's bed. Someone had come into the room and refilled the water pitcher while he had been conked out. Seeing Coop's cup from earlier hadn't been removed, Jimmy filled it halfway and made his way over to his partner.

Spotting the white paper cup, Coop's eyes widened and he struggled to get his right arm free so he could begin chugging the refreshing, cool liquid down.

"Coop, stop it!" Jimmy ordered; he was nervous that Coop's wiggling about would disentangle his arm from the bind that Jimmy sensed had been a challenge for Nurse Taylor and Dr. Buchanan to assemble when so much of Coop's chest was taken over by other medical paraphernalia.

Coop let out a weak, frustrated grunt and the increasing prickles in his throat swelled his irritation tenfold. Coop began to move his left hand toward Jimmy before the sight of large swaths of tape and plastic tubing all over his left arm captured his attention.

"Relax, Coop. I'll help you with it," said Jimmy, hoping his voice sounded authoritative enough that Coop would take his advice, for once. Thinking of the before time almost caused Jimmy to break down into laughter. What he would give if his and Coop's worst fear was once again Coop's style of cowboy justice getting them booted off the force.

Jagged, brief bits of coherence drifting through his mind, Coop felt no desire to fight Jimmy's quiet order. Quenching his growing thirst was quickly taking priority.

Gripping the cup in his right hand, Jimmy slid his free palm behind Coop's head and tried to force it upward gently.

Hoping he was aiding Jimmy enough so his head wasn't deadweight, Coop gripped the straw with his teeth. Not caring that water was dribbling down his chin, Coop slurped the water as fast as his mouth would cooperate. When the steady stream dwindled to mere drops, Coop released the straw and closed his eyes.

Silently, Jimmy guided Coop's head back onto its pillow. Putting the cup on Elizabeth's abandoned chair, Jimmy drew his own chair as close to Coop's bed as was possible. Reaching into his pocket, Jimmy grabbed the disintegrating napkin and dabbed Coop's chin dry. "Better now, Coop?"

Nodding, Coop shifted his weary gaze to Jimmy. He wondered where his mother had vanished to. "W-where's my m-ma?" Coop asked in a thin, reedy voice.

Coop's grating words jabbed at Jimmy's conscious. It was almost as if no time at all had passed between what he had assumed to be Coop's last words calling out to him from the radio receiver he had almost dropped to the floor of the patrol car.

Then Jimmy shook his head. Remember what Joe told you! What happened happened! You have to focus on now and Coop! You've gotten a second chance that you're not going to blow! Jimmy cleared his throat and gave Coop a slight smile. "Your mom just went home for a bit to change and get her purse. I'm sure she'll be back soon, Coop."

Some of Coop's anxiety calmed. Whatever had happened to him, his mother wasn't harmed. Coop's face began to itch and he began to move his hand to scratch it before a strong arm interrupted his plans. His face began to redden as Jimmy refused to let go.

Jimmy let out a sigh when Coop finally quit struggling. Weak and drained as his partner was, Jimmy was relieved Coop was fighting physically as best his wounded body would allow. Take Coop's limp wrist, Jimmy rested it alongside Coop's torso. "You'd best leave that stuff on your face alone, Coop."

Fog began to roll back in and Coop felt caught in some sort of sticky inertia. "B-but i-it i-itches," Coop rasped, the tingling above his nose becoming almost unbearable.

Jimmy bit his lip; at last, there was some way he could ease Coop's discomfort. "Where, Coop?"

"A-above m-my n-nose. C-closest to y-you," Coop whispered.

Gently, Jimmy began to scratch to the left of Coop's nose, making certain he didn't disturb the tape securing Coop's oxygen line and feeding tube in place. "That better?" Jimmy asked, folding his hands across his lap.

Nodding, Coop turned his head towards Jimmy. His left arm coming into focus, Coop couldn't help staring at it He was stunned to see black bruises intermixed with plastic tubing. "W-what is a-all t-this s-shit?" Coop rasped, clenching his hand into a weak fist.

Jimmy couldn't help but let a small smile cross his face; Coop's last spoken phrase almost made it seem nothing all had altered his partner. In so many ways the broken vessel before him bore very little resemblance to the Coop he had once known. Handsome, daring, and stubborn, it was becoming increasingly difficult for Jimmy to remember the man he had placed all his hopes and dreams of prosperous future into.

But then Jimmy stopped himself from thinking so foolishly. While the person that lay in the hospital bed in front of him was tired and scared, Coop's feeble surliness reassured Jimmy Coop was still the brave, courageous man he had grown to admire and wish he could be the past year.

Seeing Jimmy silent and staring at him with a rather goofy look across his face, Coop let out a frustrated grunt. He was trying to assemble the confusing blur of images in his mind into something comprehensible. But all he could remember were his mother's tears dripping onto his face and his heart pounding when he had woken up with two strangers in this strange room with a pungent order that made him want to vomit.

Coop's dazed, confused look pained Jimmy like the pricks from a sharp needle. Come on, Jimmy! You have to reassure Coop and keep him calm! Jimmy scratched his head. "Well, I can't tell you what those things are for, Coop. Because I gotta be honest and say I got no clue whatsoever. But I know they're to help you get better."

Coop's brow furrowed. "B-better?" he asked, swallowing to quiet his protesting throat.

Jimmy's palms began to sweat. He had never imagined he would have to be the one explaining things to Coop; he'd been certain if it wasn't one of the doctors, it would have been Elizabeth. Trying to think of a way to buy himself sometime, Jimmy decided to try and find out how big Coop's memory gaps were. "Don't ya remember the doc telling you, Coop? About where you are and stuff, I mean?"

Coop closed his eyes and tried to remember. But all he could come up with were bits of a fluttery voice saying Penn General. "P-Penn G-General?" Coop managed to get out.

Jimmy nodded; Coop's memory was like Swiss cheese at the best of times, but at least something had landed between his ears. "That's right, Coop. You're in Penn General, in the hospital so they can help you get better."

Coop began to feel sleepy, but forced his eyes to bypass the weights pulling his eyelids down. "H-have I-I b-been sick?" asked Coop.

Sick is a bit of an underestimate! Jimmy nodded, giving Coop's blanketed thigh a light pat. "Yeah, you could say you've been down with a bug. Hell, the bastard almost killed you!"

Click.

Coop's face began to molt with anxiety; the sound of an M1917 revolver being loaded was unmistakable. Looking upwards the zombie Vietcong solider that had stalked Coop's sleep of late grinned at him from behind Jimmy. The smile becoming colder, the bloodied soldier aimed the loaded gun square at Coop's forehead.

"Please...don't...h-hurt me!" Coop whispered, the veins in his neck sticking out like Roman columns as his body shook.

Jimmy's heart seized in his throat. Fuck, how could you say shit like that when Coop is drugged out of his mind?! Jimmy had hoped that one night two weeks before was the only time he'd have to witness that terrified look in Coop's eyes.

Biting the inside of his lip, Jimmy intertwined his hand into Coop's. "Coop, there's no one else in here but me! Nothing in here's gonna kill you! Don't you dare even think bullshit like that! You're gonna get out of this hellhole and you're gonna be fine!"

Jimmy's grip distracting him from his panic, Coop's body relaxed visibly as his enemy faded away. It wasn't real...

Jimmy gave Coop's palm a tender caress and he felt dizzy when Coop's fingers began to tighten around his just like that last night they had drunk beer together in Jimmy's backyard.

Coop let out a small sigh, trying to figure out what the light hissing near his left ear was. "W-why a-am I h-here, Jimmy?"

Wriggling his hand away from Coop, Jimmy searched his mind for a way to prolong having to tell Coop the full state of affairs. "You hurting at all, Coop? Need me to get the doc?"

Coop shook his head; a sharp, dull ache emanated periodically from around his left ribs, but it was bearable compared to the crushing waves that had consumed him earlier. "H-hurts a b-bit. B-but l-leave it."

Jimmy began to rise from his chair. "I'd better go get…"

"No!" Coop tried to shout. But the word came out in a strangled croak.

Jimmy sunk back into his seat. "Please, Coop. Don't do this to yourself."

Coop shook his head. "I c-can h-handle it!" Coop whispered.

Jimmy slouched back, but he gave Coop a look to show he wasn't convinced. "I don't know…"

"P-please, J-jimmy," Coop whispered. "D-don't g-go."

Jimmy ducked his head so Coop wouldn't see his eyes misting over. Hell. Of course he'd comply with Coop's plea when the last time he had refused it had thrust them both into eternal hell.

"But why, Coop? Why do you gotta do this?"

Coop tilted his head back and let his eyes close as a fresh spasm of pain hit him. But he welcomed the brief torture. To feel was to be alive and it stopped numbness that kept eroding his thoughts from winning.

Jimmy sighed; whatever he was hoping to glean from Coop wasn't forthcoming. "There's gotta be something I can do here, Coop."

Coop nodded and licked his dry, chapped lips. "Yes. You c-can t-tell m-me w-what h-happened."

Jimmy began to feel dizzy, not even noticing his breathing quickening to the point of hyperventilation. "Uh…ok. W-what do you w-wanna k-know?" Jimmy stammered.

Taking a deep breath, Coop felt sleep beginning to tighten its grip on his brain. "E-everything t-that p-put me in h-here."

Picking at his thumb with his forefinger, Jimmy's eyes darted about the room nervously. Harsh antiseptics burned his nostrils and began to steal away the little air remaining in his lungs. Then Jimmy's figured out a way to stall having to remind Coop of his betrayal and he began to feel less tense "Uh…well, why don't…you tell me what you do remember, Coop and I can…uh…help you fill in the gaps?"

"Sure," Coop whispered, his eyes closing.

Seeing Coop's face become slack, Jimmy knew Coop had fallen back to sleep. Dizzy with relief he leaned back into his chair and tried to keep his balance. For the moment, Jimmy was safe.

"Coop, what the heck are you doing back here?"

Coop looked up and fell backwards onto the sofa in his den when Danny came into view. Even though he'd now made the trip back and forth several times, he still wasn't used to it. "I...uh…"

"Fell back asleep down there? Of course! Sorry, Coop. Forgot about the morphine and who knows what else you're on." Shrugging his thin shoulders, Danny began to play with the zipper of his letter jacket.

Coop paled. Seeing Danny in his Penn baseball cap and letter jacket made his friend seem more like a ghost than ever. "Do…do you gotta wear that stuff, Danny?"

Spreading his legs, Danny examined his outfit. Aside from his beige chinos needing a quick iron and his brown loafers a bit of a polish, he thought he looked presentable. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Coop tried to force a grin to hide his discomfort. "Aren't ya supposed to wear a suit or whatever when you're working?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Sure. But when it's a long mission the Boss relaxes some of the rules; we like to be comfortable just like you do, you know!"

"Still…but why that outfit?"

Danny gave Coop a cool appraisal. "Just because I had to quit the team doesn't mean my time there didn't happen. I'm still part of Penn's success, whether those assholes like it or not."

Coop barely noticed Robin hop onto his lap and begin to curl up. "But why the visible reminder? What's the point of tormenting yourself like that, Danny? Reminding yourself of everything you lost?"

"I'm not tormenting myself, Coop. It's called facing the past as best I know how. You wear a badge and uniform to work, don't you?"

"Yeah, but…"

Danny seated himself on Coop's desk and began swinging his legs. "Well, then tell me. Why do you guys wear those goofy getups?"

Coop felt anger begin to shirt inside himself and his left fist began to clench. "Because those uniforms and badges mean something important! That we are the law out there to put the scumbags away! We wear those uniforms and badges so the idiots out on the streets that want to break the law know who we are and what we signify!"

"Exactly!" Danny snapped, slamming his palm on Coop's desk. Both men winced as Robin leaped off Coop's lap for safety underneath the couch.

"Exactly what?!"

"To remind the world I was a part of something! Part of a team! Baseball meant everything to me and if I stop embracing what I had then those who hated me for what I truly was win!"

Coop shook his head. Some of what Danny considered logical was clinical insanity.

"Yes, Coop, I know you're thinking I'm crazy. But I don't care. At least I deal with and am proud of my past. Heck, I even embrace it now!"

Dying breaths laced with gurgling blood dripping onto his forearms made Coop shiver before the ghost went back into its grave. "I do deal with my memories, Danny. I fight and live with them every single day!"

"Yeah, by pretending they just didn't happen."

Coop crossed his arms, giving Danny a hard glare. "And do you got any better ideas to help me out with this?"

Danny nodded. "Yup. It's about time Jimmy started understanding things a bit better so he can help you begin to come to terms with them. There's only so much I can do for you!"

Coop smirked and began to shake his head. "We've been over that. It's not gonna happen!"

Danny jumped to his feet and jerked Coop upward with one tapered hand. "Come on, it's time for you to get going!"

Struggling out of Danny's grip, Coop gave Danny a push. "Go where?!"

"Back downstairs!" Danny boomed, grabbing Coop by the waist and throwing him across the room.

About to crash headfirst into the closed window, Coop instinctively folded his arms to protect his head. Bracing himself for stars when he opened his eyes, Coop instead saw himself tumbling head over heels like a shot down plane spiraling uncontrollably into a bag of dry, uncooked white rice.

"Rice."

"Huh?" asked Jimmy, startled to suddenly hear sound. After twenty minutes had ticked by, Jimmy had become certain that Coop would once again be asleep for hours and had resumed reading his newspaper.

Coop nodded, his fingers remembering the tactile sensation of thin, hard grains.

Jimmy folded up the paper and stuffed it down the back of his chair. "What about rice, Coop?" Jimmy cocked an eyebrow; Dr. Tomlinson had told him and Elizabeth that Coop was likely to be confused for the next few days until his body had adjusted to the pain medicine. But this was such a sharp deviation from their previous, lucid conversation Jimmy couldn't help feeling uneasy that some change for the worse had occurred in Coop's mind.

"That's the last thing I r-remember," whispered Coop, his voice clear.

"You…remember…rice?" Jimmy echoed dumbly.

Coop nodded. "Yeah…throwing it at Alan's head."

Relief flooded Jimmy as light dawned and cleared up the stormy Confusion Ocean. "You mean your buddy's wedding you went to the other night?"

"Other night?" Coop asked, giving Jimmy a confused stare. Just what had happened to him?! And when?

Jimmy gave Coop's cheek a light stroke, enjoying each prick from Coop's two-day-old stubble. "Never mind. Forget it. Why'd you throw rice at your buddy's head?"

His eyes drifting towards the window, Coop smirked slightly. "'Cause it's w-what ya do at weddings! 'Sides, it was to r-remind him to a-always watch his back. I got my a-ass o-outta there fast."

Jimmy gave Coop a grin of his own and gripped his hand. "So he wouldn't know the hard shots were yours, huh?"

Shifting back to the centre of his pillow, Coop shook his head. "Nah…he…knew i-it was m-me."

"Didn't you say it was a big crowd going though, Coop? How would Alan know it wasn't some other guy pelting him?"

Coop's gaze became faraway and the still, starry nights he'd pelt Alan with mud to keep him from falling asleep during guard duty were crystal clear. The fragrant jungle, the rain pouring down into the soil that once saturated had created the best mud balls. Coop could almost still see the sticky mud clinging beneath his fingernails

Coop's eyes closed and he let out a yawn before giving Jimmy one more tidbit. "Be-because in 'Nam I'd do it to m-make sure A-Alan stayed awake w-when we had guard duty. Alan j-just couldn't s-swallow c-coffee d-down l-like the…rest of us. So…I…h-hadda do it…for his own g-good..."

Coop's hand become limp and Jimmy found himself unable to let go of it. For a few moments he was back in Coop's den that frosty December evening Coop had revealed his night of which Coop had refused to elaborate on, keeping that part of himself sealed away from Jimmy.

Then his eyes drifted to Coop's bandaged chest and reality began hitting him with blows that were too much to handle head on. Letting go of Coop's hand, Jimmy, dragged Coop's blanket and sheet upwards as much as was possible without disturbing Coop's chest tube.

A cold smile twisted Jimmy's face as he smoothed the blanket. Whatever choices Jimmy had made to get Coop into this situation, he would make sure his partner got justice if the gears at the police station hadn't beaten him to it.


	35. The Frayed Edges of Sanity

The foreign coolness flooding Jimmy's features was chased away when he heard several sets of footsteps come through the door behind him. Getting to his feet, Jimmy came face to face with Dr. Tomlinson and two nurses he had not previously seen. Seeing their faces devoid of all expression, Jimmy's stomach began to clench with anxiety as he walked towards the three women.

Seeing the exhausted man stop before her, Dr. Tomlinson put a hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "We are so sorry if we have disturbed you, Mr. Bruno. But it is time for us to do Sean's vitals check and personal care."

Lifting the soft hand off his shoulder, Jimmy found himself shrinking back from Dr. Tomlinson. It took tremendous effort for Jimmy to suppress the sneer he was dying to shoot in the doctor's direction. Her polished, formal speech was beginning to grate and fray his nerves. _So sorry to have disturbed me? Where do you come off talking to me like that, you arrogant, condescending bitch?_

Then Jimmy rubbed his eyes, the skin almost raw from this frequent motion. Fatigue, anger, and bitterness towards himself were beginning to erode his better judgment and gratitude towards one of the doctors that had helped keep Coop alive and given them both hopes of a future together. _What a great way to show my fucking gratitude!_

Tapping her chin thoughtfully as the two nurses passed her to begin the blood pressure and pulse readings, Dr. Tomlinson considered her next words carefully. "Mr. Bruno, please do not take this the wrong way. But I think it would be best if you were to head home now."

Jimmy raised his head, doing his best to keep from glaring. "Why?"

"I have not seen you leave this room in hours. Surely you must feel in need of a break?"

Jimmy shrugged, every joint aching from the fitful doze he had had in the stiff vinyl chair that was almost like his new home. "I'm fine."

Seeing the two nurses continuing to go about their work, Dr. Tomlinson knew Coop was stable and showing no signs to cause them alarm. Dr. Tomlinson clicked her tongue. "Well, you are most certainly _not_ fine. You look ready to pass out. Also, I do not like the look of that lip of yours."

Self-consciously, Jimmy gave the wounded corner of his lip a tentative probe of his tongue. He winced visibly when he was rewarded with a sharp, painful itch and the sour taste of weeping pus. His lip had been throbbing off and on ever since the soothing, painkilling injection he had been given in the emergency room had worn off, but it hadn't been until the past few hours that it had steadily gotten worse.

Dr. Tomlinson gave Jimmy an appraising stare. "You realize exactly what I mean." With a sign, Dr. Tomlinson reached into the top pocket of her white lab coat and began scribbling across the prescription pad she had extracted. "Here," she said, ripping off the page and handing it to Jimmy. "Penicillin, three times a day for seven days."

Nodding, Jimmy folded the prescription into a haphazard square and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. Looking past Dr. Tomlinson, Jimmy anxiously watched the nurses beginning to check Coop's dressings. He had to turn away when they lifted away the bandages covering the lower half of Coop's left chest. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ After five years on the force, Jimmy had seen his share of grievous injuries and had learned to not let them affect him. But seeing the damage inflicted upon Coop without bloodstained cotton or snow white bandages to soften the horror was something he was not ready to face.

Seeing Jimmy's paling face, Dr. Tomlinson tried to steer Jimmy out of the room. "Perhaps it would be best if you waited in the hallway, Mr. Bruno. At least until we finish attending to Sean's needs. Go get that prescription you need filled; we have a pharmacy on the first floor of the hospital right near the elevators in the lobby."

Stopping in the doorway, Jimmy turned around, shaking his head. "No."

Dr. Tomlinson gave Jimmy a tired glare; it had been another long shift and she wanted nothing to jeopardize the miracle that was keeping up the spirits of the ICU floor after a trying morning of one patient crisis after another. "Mr. Bruno, I really think it would be best…"

"No," Jimmy interrupted softly, forcing himself to glance at the bloody sutures by Coop's ribs. He felt nauseated, but forced himself to give Dr. Tomlinson a level gaze. "I ain't leaving Coop alone in this place! I promised Elizabeth I'd stay in this room until she comes back! No matter what you guys tell me that's what I'm gonna do! Come hell or high water!"

"You promised Mrs. Cooper that?"

"Yeah. I did. So…please…don't make me break that promise."

Dr. Tomlinson evaluated Jimmy's soft plea. Sensing there was invisible steel directing Jimmy's actions, she decided it best to concede Jimmy the victory. "Very well, Mr. Bruno. You can stay, but I am going to require that you stay back here until we finish. Our patients usually do not like other people watching over them when we do personal care. They have a hard enough time letting us do it without feeling embarrassed."

Jimmy's eyes widened and he somehow knew he was going to dread the answer Dr. Tomlinson was going to supply him with. "What…what do ya mean by 'personal care'?"

As a white clothed orderly slipped by them carrying a thick, white diaper, Dr. Tomlinson merely directed her palm in its direction.

Jimmy flushed with shame as the doctor's meaning became clear. Bedridden and barely even able to lift his head, he should have realized that _all_ of Coop's needs being taken care of were at the mercy of the hospital staff.

Sighing that Jimmy had gotten her message without words, Dr. Tomlinson went over to Coop to lend a hand to the nursing staff and make sure nothing serious had escaped their attention.

Leaning against the wall, Jimmy was relieved Coop was still asleep. He kept his eyes directed to the floor so he would not have to add witnessing Coop's dignity being compromised to his list of offences. It was a fierce struggle for Jimmy to fight the temptation to escape to the roof of the hospital and scream until his throat was hoarse and pound the concrete until his knuckles split open.

As he heard the business of Coop's care beginning to wind down, Jimmy managed to condense his rage into a hard ball that he could feel rolling and sloshing around his stomach. _Get a grip, Jimmy! You'll get your chance soon enough to kill the bastard that did this to Coop. You're going to promise him that as soon as those goddamned bastards get the hell out of here!_

* * *

_Bing-Bong! Bing Bong! Bing-Bong!_

Her head still somewhere at Penn General, the grandfather clock downstairs striking three dragged Elizabeth out of her sound sleep. Sitting up, Elizabeth rubbed her cheek; the ridged, whirly pattern of the pillow she had fallen asleep on was etched into her cheek and began to itch as the pressure was removed.

As the bedroom that had once been Coop's came into focus, Elizabeth clasped her knees to her chest and began to rock back and forth as tears once more hit her eyes. When she had first come into the house, she had been numb, feeding the fish and putting away the clean dishes as if nothing at all had altered her life in the past forty hours.

Briefly thinking about it, it didn't struck Elizabeth as strange behaviour; it had been the same way after Michael had passed away. When Brogan, to the shock (and disgust of some) of his fellow officers had refused bereavement leave and lunged right back into patrols, she too had kept her days busy to distract herself from her torment. She had had no time to cry, let alone grieve, when there were Sean's Little League luncheons to attend or Church socials to organize. That she would do the same thing when alone in the house that was now simply a pale testament happy family life that had once permeated its corridors was little surprise.

Then her eyes drifted to the closet door that still bore dents and scratches from all the years Coop had repeatedly thrown a baseball with varying intensity against its flimsy wood. The habit she had ordered her son dozens of times to cease had become Coop's way of easing boredom, stress, or trying to work out a difficult problem. When Michael had died, Coop had spent the first weeks cooped up alone in the bedroom they had once shared. As the laughs of boys who still had had brothers to play with streamed through his open window, Coop had listlessly lain on the floor as he rolled the ball back and forth against the exposed baseboards along the wall where Michael's bed had once stood.

Her teeth clenching, Elizabeth got to her foot and brushed her hair back from her eyes. _You can't think of Mikey now! You still have a son that is living and needs you!_ Ashamed to have crumbled under the grief that refused to free her after nineteen years, Elizabeth swept out of Coop's room. Her eyes cooled as she began to unbutton her blouse and headed for the bathroom. The brief outlines of a plan began to form in her mind; Elizabeth would shower, put on some fresh clothes, get her purse, and drive to the hospital without being at the mercy of a cabby whose greatest priority was taking the longest possible route back to the hospital in hopes of a greater fare and tip.

Turning on the taps, Elizabeth flung her blouse onto the floor and let her unzipped skirt pool at her feet. The nap had recharged her and the seams of her mind that had begun to unravel during her torturous time at the hospital began to return to their normal state. The Mother Tiger was roaring and the stoic sense of duty she had witnessed her son display throughout his journey to war began to overtake her. _The greatest gift I can give Sean now._

* * *

"Come on, Coop! You've got to speak to me sometime!"

Dragging Robin onto the couch armrest beside him, Coop shot Danny a smile that wasn't exactly friendly. "Actually, I don't."

Danny rolled his eyes and crammed his hands into his pockets. "For Pete's sake Coop…grow up!"

Coop winced, but Danny's words just as quickly ricocheted off his hardening heart. "How old are you now, Danny?"

"What's that got to do with…"

"Just answer the damn question! For once…just give me an answer without making a federal case out it!" Coop interrupted, giving Danny a sharp glare. Coop's eyes narrowed as Robin dug a claw into his palm, as if trying to stop the flames of Coop's temper from raging out of control.

Leaning against Coop's TV stand, Danny shrugged. _Remember…pick your battles._ "Fine. I'm twenty-four. We sort of stop aging when we die, you see. At least chronologically."

Coop smirked. "Then where the hell do you get off telling _me_ to grow up? I'm older than you now!"

Danny's mouth formed into a straight line. "I may have stopped aging physically; that much is true, Coop. But my mind is still evolving; I'm still learning how to handle problems in different ways. I'm just saying it's about time you do the same and quit acting like a kid!"

As Coop got to his feet, his fists clenched, Robin knew an eruption was imminent. As quick as Coop's fury began to rise, Robin leaped off the sofa and bolted out the door.

As the sound of Robin's claws digging into the carpeted hallway began to fade, Coop shot Danny an even harder glare. "Now see what you've done? You're gonna give the poor bastard a heart attack!"

"Me?! You're the one who scared him!"

Crossing his arms, Coop's face twisted as he plopped back into his seat. _You've got too much at stake to wring Danny's neck now!_ "Only because you started this whole argument!"

Danny eyes widened in astonishment. "Me?! What did I do? _You're_ the one who came back here from Earth refusing to say anything to me! Which is why I'm telling you to grow up! This is the same crap you used to pull on me on the bus after I had to get your hungover ass out of bed all those times you stayed out too late at those seedy bars with Ben!"

Coop couldn't help grinning; giving Danny a hard time during their motel stays had been his subtle way of trying to loosen up his uptight friend. "You're the one that has been harping at me ever since you got here Danny that I gotta let out what's torturing me. That's what I was doing back then; it wasn't healthy for you to be so reserved all the time and never have any fun!"

"Coop, quit changing the subject! My being able to control myself with alcohol has nothing to do with anything we're trying to discuss here!"

"Fine!" Coop snapped, pounding one balled up fist against his thigh. "You know damned well why I'm pissed at you! You made me say stuff to Jimmy I told you I never wanted to talk about with him, let alone you!"

Danny sighed, pulling out his lighter and fiddling with its catch. "Fine. Guilty as charged, Coop. I did play a role in loosening up your inhibitions on that subject this one time; it's something I don't usually do. But it was for your and Jimmy's own good!"

Coop shook his head, not wanting to think what Danny might have been smoking during his time away to reach this latest conclusion about his demons. "Danny, I think this lawyer stuff and trying to be a do-gooder is really destroying your common sense! Don't you realize it's best to let some ghosts stay in the grave so they don't take away the few bits of sanity I got left? Don't you already realize how much of a struggle it is already to try and forget what happened so I can at least function day to day? And don't you think Jimmy's has already seen and heard enough the past while without my craziness being added to the mix?"

Putting the lighter away, Danny gave Coop a curt shake of his head. "Nope. For one, you're not crazy, as much as you keep trying to convince me and yourself otherwise. Your nightmares are a natural reaction to someone who refuses to kick his demons to the curb where they belong. I let your tongue loose so Jimmy can start helping you deal with them. It's for both of your own good!"

"Danny, that's complete and utter bullshit!"

"No it's not!" yelled Danny, running his hand over his face. "Things with Jimmy will never progress further until you integrate all of yourself into the person he sees! That means everything: your fears, your dreams, your violence, your anger, your passion, your sense of justice...every last bit of it all! You've kept some of that stuff suppressed for so long that you think they don't exist. But they do! What happened happened!"

Coop sighed; he was nervous to see Danny so angry and he didn't want to chance another argument when this man possibly had the power to snuff his life out entirely. _Fuck! That's a stupid way to think! You know Danny would fuck you over like that!_ Coop's mouth went dry. "Tell me then, Danny. What good will come out of Jimmy knowing I used to throw mud at Alan during guard duty? Just proves to him that I am what you said: a fucking prankster who still refuses to grow up and become the mature adult I should be by now."

Danny smiled and gave Coop a nod. "I knew that sharp mind of yours was still alive and well! That's exactly why you said it!"

"What?!"

Danny seated himself beside Coop and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Jimmy needed some sort of reassurance that the guy he fell in love with is going to come back to him. While the past bit has been hell for you, it has been exactly the same for Jimmy, too. Getting a reminder that you are still a cocky smartass so the job gets done did more to lift his spirits than you can possibly understand right now, Coop. If you hadn't pelted Alan with mud, he _would_ have fallen asleep and it could've jeopardized your whole platoon if you were the only one on watch for the enemy! Two sets of eyes are really better than one!"

Coop hunched forward and put his head between his hands. "But…Jimmy's always telling me tone down the wise ass remarks! He almost decked me when I asked McCree if he took LSD!"

"Yeah, just like when you tell Jimmy that he could use a few beers so that he will stop being so uptight and quit questioning every move he makes. After all, such hesitation could be disastrous in the thick of a dangerous situation and that's why Jimmy appreciates your quick action. Both of you admire traits in each other to the point you wish you could switch places for a bit. You wish people would take you more seriously sometimes while Jimmy wants to actually enjoy life instead of feeling so scared of everything. You both help balance one another out to be impressive cops."

Coop straightened up; like Danny's previous arguments, this one was full of well thought reasoning Coop couldn't ignore. Then Coop gave Danny the most sombre look he could muster. "Tell me something, Danny. And I want you to be totally honest. Just how bad have things been for Jimmy and Ma at the hospital?"

Danny began to bite his lip. "Well, not the best. You _did_ get shot, after all, so they've had some fear to contend with."

"I know all that!" Coop sighed and began to chew his thumbnail without wanting to. "What I mean is…how bad were they told things were? What sorta shit did I put them through?"

"Like I told you before, Coop, _none_ of what has happened is your fault! They're only upset about what happened because they love you!"

"Then tell me the truth!"

Danny sighed. "Look, one of the docs will tell you when the time is right. Once you're fully awake and coherent down on Earth, I mean."

Coop ran a hand through his damp hair and let out a frustrated grunt. "I think I've been through enough shit in my life to handle whatever it is you could tell me right now!"

"True. But it's best for you to be told with the right support around you; there's no point torturing yourself with knowledge that will do you no good right now. As much as it pains me to say it…I can't be a permanent coping resource, for you, Coop. At some point, Jimmy and your Ma are going to have to help you bear some of the burden."

Coop's face formed into an expression that Danny found difficult to decipher as a smile or frown. "You're still a control freak, aren't you, Danny? _Everything_ has to go according to some strategy or schedule of yours or you got no clue about what to do or say!"

Danny gave Coop a rather unlawyer like smirk. "Guilty as charged. Let's play cards to pass the time until your next trip down."

Coop shook his head. "I…I think I need to lie down, Danny. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I really need to get some real sleep that isn't caused by booze or some drug. I'm shot."

Snapping his fingers, Danny placed a blanket into Coop's trembling hands. "Sorry, forgot this hocus pocus stuff makes you nervous. But you've got to admit it's quicker than me trying to dig it out of your closet! I don't feel like an avalanche of crap burying me!"

Coop gave Danny a slight smirk as he lay down. "Yeah," Coop whispered, wrapping the blanket across his body as he let sleep take hold.

* * *

Leaning against the warm bricks, Captain Alfred Stinson threw his cigarette butt to the ground, snuffing out the flame with his heavy black leather shoe. The strong sun loomed overhead and warmed his back, but Stinson took little notice. Aside from a brief jaunt home the night before to get a bit of sleep, Stinson hadn't left the station since Coop had been shot. Despite an array of leads and an endless series of interrogations, they were no closer to catching Coop's shooter. Stinson was dreading having to give the media vultures nothing solid yet again about the potential cop killer on the loose.

Reaching into his pocket for his pack of Camels, Stinson realized a potential murder was better than a killer. The news that Sean Cooper was still alive and fighting had caused Owen Murphy, the first officer to arrive at the scene, to rub his swollen eyes in disbelief. It can't be true, Murphy had told him. There was no way Coop could be alive when he had lost so much blood just in the patrol car. You know that damn well, Stinson. You saw it in the crime scene photographs and have seen scenes like this!

Taking a drag, Stinson hoped that the nicotine intermingling with the caffeine flowing through his veins would trick his body into staying awake. Then the cigarette fell from between Stinson's chubby fingers and onto the cracked, dirty concrete causing his feet to ache. Brogan Cooper, haggard and unkempt, was coming towards him.


	36. Cruel to be Kind

"Serge! What the hell are you doing here?" Stinson demanded, snuffing the still smouldering cigarette to ashes beneath his shoe.

Serge stopped just short of Stinson. He had to blink his burning eyes to bring the short, squat man into focus. "Came to see how the investigation's going."

Stinson shook his head and placed a sweaty palm onto one shoulder of Serge's crumpled white shirt. "Serge, you know where you should be. And it ain't here."

Recoiling from Stinson's touch, Serge's blank eyes turned to stone, his mouth into an unfeeling slit. "Where do you you think I should be, Alife?"

Stinson sighed. "You know damn well where you should be," Stinson replied quietly as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Serge shook his head, squinting away the mid-afternoon sunshine beating down above. "Here and the force is all I've got left."

Stinson looked at Serge dumbfounded. "What the hell are you talking about?!"

Serge's gaze moved to the ground. "They're all gone now, Alfie. First Mikey and Lizzie, now Coop…" Serge stopped to swallow the lump of emotion that had jumped into his throat. "All I can do now for Coop is to make sure you catch the bastard who did this so I get him before the chair does." Clenching and forming his fist into a hard rock and moved to punch the brick wall nearby.

Stunned, Stinson restrained Serge's flying arm by the elbow and it was a struggle not to be on the receiving end of the fist.

In a daze, Serge froze and tried to block out the curious stares some officers where shooting him as they tried to sneak by without being spotted and forced into a conversation with him. The pain from Stinson's grip becoming impossible to ignore, Serge began to rant and swear under his breath as he tried to twist away.

With great effort, Stinson managed to steer Serge into alley across the road from the police station. When the putrid smell of rotting garbage and the cool shade greeted them, Stinson stopped and pressed Serge against one of the dank, dirty walls. "What the fuck did you just say to me over there, Serge?"

 _You heard me damn well!_ Serge wriggled out away from Stinson's limp grasp. "I didn't say nothing."

 _Drop it. You have no idea what this guy is going through._ "Look, Serge. Just come back to the station with me. Come get a coffee and something to eat. You look like hell! I promise we'll get someone to take you back to the hospital after that."

Serge shot Stinson a cold stare. "I ain't going back there."

"Why not? Your kid and wife need you!"

Serge let out a brief, bitter chuckle. "You were my partner for eight years, Alfie. You know damn well Lizzy hasn't needed me in years! And I don't care what medical mumble jumble they fed to me, but that vegetable I saw in that bed last night ain't my son."

Stinson gaped. "Are you trying to telling me you haven't been at Penn General since I told that kid Stillman to take you back there?"

Serge permitted his mouth to form a tight, cold smile. "Not since…midnight? One or two? I dunno. Not like I kept track as I walked here."

"You _walked_ here?!"

Serge shrugged. "My son's gone, Alfie. What else was I supposed to do? Sit there and try to kid myself that Coop's gonna be okay? No. No way."

Stinson shook his head. "Serge, all that shit you've been saying is bullshit. Your kid woke up this morning! Did you know that?"

Serge froze and began wringing his shirt. "What?"

Stinson's fingers fumbled into his shirt pocket, hoping in vain he hadn't smoked his last cigarette. "You heard me right."

"That's just it. I couldn't have heard you right!"

Feeling his packet crumbled and empty, Stinson gave up fishing for the a cigarette. "You damn well heard me right! Some broad, a Dr. Tom-li-something called us about seven. I've made sure the hospital's been keeping us updated and they told us all things considered your son is doing damn well right now!"

 _My God, it's not too late!_ "I…I…d-d-didn't k-k-know!" Serge stammered. "I gotta go back there! But you've gotta tell me how the investigation is going first! I gotta be able tell my son something, anything! I can't go back there and not have answers for him!"

Stinson sighed. "Don't make the investigation your priority right now, Serge. You've got to stay away from this one! Let us do our thing and you do yours. I'll get someone to drive you back or we'll get you a cab. We'll figure it out."

Serge crossed his arms. "Not 'til you give me a full rundown of everything going on."

 _Fucking stubborn bastard!_ Seeing the hard look in Serge's eyes, Stinson knew trying to argue further would be a fruitless endeavour. The gaze Serge was giving him was a mirror of what had occurred when Michael Cooper had died; before the boy had even been put into the ground, Serge had been back at work and none of his partner's pleas to head home and take time had been successful.

"Fine, Serge. I'll go get Tom. He knows more details than I do."

 _Yeah, he can tell me just who did this to my boy! And he's gonna pay for all of them!_ "Good. Bring him here. I ain't going in there. I don't those guys who got no idea what I'm feeling telling me they understand. Because they don't!"

Putting his face into his hands, Stinson gave his eyes a hard rub. "I get that, Serge. I'll get him out here as quick as I can. But he still might be in an interrogation, so I can't make any promises."

"Fine," Serge replied carelessly, leaning against the cold cinder blocks as Stinson's chubby backside began to make a hasty retreat across the street. Like hungry sharks swirling around their bleeding victim, twisted seeds of revenge began to take seed inside Serge's sleep-deprived mind.

* * *

"Jimmy?" Elizabeth called as she weaved past bustling residents and nurses towards the wall where Jimmy still awaited the doctor's permission to head back into Coop's room.

"Hey," said Jimmy, straightening up and taking his hands out of his pockets as Elizabeth came into focus. "Good to see you back. You're looking better."

Looking down at her pressed yellow dress and polished white shoes, Elizabeth had to agree with Jimmy's assessment that, on the surface at least, she was in better shape. Elizabeth manoeuvred her white handbag to the crook of her elbow and gave Jimmy a light pat on the shoulder. "Wish I could say the same to you, Jimmy."

The burning from his eyes, the itch from two days of unshaven stubble, and the constant throbbing of his lip reminded Jimmy of the fine appearance he was presenting. Jimmy dropped an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders. "Don't you worry. I'm fine."

 _No, you're not Jimmy. Sean gave me that same look just before he went to basic training._ Elizabeth began to lead Jimmy into Coop's hospital room before he stopped her.

"They're doing some stuff to Coop in there," Jimmy reluctantly explained, leading Elizabeth to some empty chairs nearby so they could both rest their weary bodies. "They thought it best I wait out here 'til they're done. Said they'd come get me when they finish. I'm sorry."

Moving her purse to her lap, Elizabeth gave Jimmy a puzzled stare. "Sorry for what, Jimmy?"

Jimmy leaned back in his chair and let his head rest against a taupe wall badly in need of a good wiping. "Promised I'd not let him be alone. I'm sorry I couldn't do that."

Elizabeth gave Jimmy's hand a firm squeeze. "It's alright, Jimmy. I understand."

Jimmy sighed. _You can't begin to know just how many promises I have broken to Coop, Elizabeth._ "Did you manage to get some rest at least?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes. Had a nap I didn't plan. How's Sean doing?"

Jimmy bit the undamaged part of his lip thoughtfully. "He pretty much slept the whole time. He did wake up for a bit and was talking. He asked for you."

Elizabeth's heart jumped her chest. "Was he scared when I wasn't there?"

Jimmy rubbed his eyes, sleep threatening to invade immediately. "I really don't know, Elizabeth. Coop was out of it when he woke up. He understood what I was saying when we talked, but I don't if any of it registered because of all that stuff they've got him on. I don't think he remembers or knows much of anything's that happened right now. He remembered he was in the hospital, but I don't think he has any sort of clue as to how he got here."

Elizabeth clasped her hands together. "It's probably all for the best anyways. If Sean doesn't remember any of this it's probably a good thing."

For a moment, Jimmy nodded in agreement. If Coop could forget _everything,_ his betrayal then just maybe they still had a chance to the lucky ones. But then common sense kicked Jimmy's wish to the curb. "I get what you mean, Elizabeth. But Coop forgetting it all won't help us catch who did this to him."

Absently, Elizabeth began to pick at a loose hangnail. "This is going to sound strange Jimmy, but that's the last thing on my mind right now. I don't care about who did this because it won't change that it happened. All that matters to me is Sean and getting him better."

"I know," Jimmy whispered.

Staring at the elevator, Elizabeth asked, "Has Brogan been back yet?"

Jimmy sighed, hating to give Elizabeth _any_ sort of bad news. "No. Last time I saw Serge was when you did."

"I see," said Elizabeth tonelessly, a cold shadow through her face. "I figured as much."

Even though the narrow hallway they were in was almost unbearably warm, Jimmy felt a shiver run through his body. "I'll go look for him if you want."

Elizabeth pressed a hand to Jimmy's lap to keep him from rising. "Brogan's at the station, Jimmy. You don't need to go there." _That damned place means more to him than his own family. Always has, always will._

Seeing Coop's iron will come through such an unexpected source, Jimmy dropped the subject. To his relief, Dr. Tomlinson at last came out of Coop's room.

"Ah, I see that you are back, Mrs. Cooper."

Jimmy and Elizabeth both looked up into the face of Dr. Tomlinson.

"We have finished up with Sean for the time being," said Dr. Tomlinson, jerking her thumb at the orderly and nurses heading out of Coop's room. "He is still stable and is doing well, when you consider all he has been through the past while. He is still asleep, but I am sure you will want to go in and see him."

Rising to his feet, Jimmy offered Elizabeth his hand, and she accepted it gratefully. As Elizabeth made her way into the room, Dr. Tomlinson stopped Jimmy's progress. Seeing the stern look in the doctor's eyes, Jimmy prepared himself for a lecture.

"Mr. Bruno," Dr. Tomlinson began in a quiet whisper, "now that Mrs. Cooper has returned I really think it best you go down to our pharmacy, get that prescription I gave you filled, and head home for some rest."

"Just give me a few minutes," Jimmy said politely, but firmly. "Let me make sure Elizabeth's okay before I head out."

"Alright," replied Dr. Tomlinson, getting ready to do a check in another room. "Just keep it mind you will be better able to help if you are rested. I will be back in a few minutes to check up on Sean."

"Okay," Jimmy replied, spinning on his heel and heading for Coop and Elizabeth. Knowing that his battle to stay the hospital would soon be coming to an end, Jimmy took a seat beside Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, having resumed her previous position of vigil, reached into her purse and pulled out a small container of Vaseline. Screwing off the lid, Elizabeth took a tiny dollop of the cloudy jelly and gently applied some to Coop's chapped lips. Once she had finished rubbing it in, Elizabeth gripped Coop's hand, softly rubbing his calloused palm with her soft finger tips.

 _Ma?_ Even buried in an endless sea of fog, Coop recognized his mother's tender touch leading him back to where it was clear. Instinctively, Coop gave his mother's hand a weak squeeze. Still in the end grips of sleep, Coop managed to crack his eyes open before letting his eyelids downward.

Elizabeth blinked to keep her eyes from welling up. "Hi, sweetheart," Elizabeth whispered, giving her son's cheek a quick stroke.

Weakly, Coop turned his head towards his mother's voice. "H-hey, Ma," Coop whispered, recoiling from the words assaulting his still sore, swollen throat.

Elizabeth's formed a small smile as she brushed hair off of Coop's forehead. "Do you need anything, Sean? Water?"

Turning his head away, Coop managed to give it a brief shake. "I'm f-fine."

"Good," Elizabeth whispered. "I know this is hard, but you're doing a great job, Sean. You just keep doing what you're doing and being a fierce little soldier."

 _Fierce little solider..._ Triggered by his grandfather's pet nickname for him, Coop scanned past Elizabeth, trying to find him. "W-where's Pop-Pop, Ma? D-did he come w-with you?" Coop rasped.

Now feeling two sets of confused gazes upon her, Elizabeth struggled for the right words. "Pop-pop couldn't come today, Sean," Elizabeth said. "But Jimmy's here."

Jimmy gave Coop's elbow a soft nudge, longing to do so much more if the situation hadn't been what it was. "Hey, Coop."

Before Coop could speak, Elizabeth and Jimmy turned around when they heard the clearing of a throat. Dr. Tomlinson had returned.

"Hello, Sean," Dr. Tomlinson called out cheerfully, heading for the foot of Coop's bed. "It is good to see you awake."

With effort, Coop shifted his half-closed eyes away from Jimmy and towards a fluttery voice that sounded familiar.

"I can see that you are still feeling pretty sleepy, Sean. I promise that that will start to get better soon and that I will let you go right back to sleep. But is it okay Sean if I ask you to do one or two things for me first?" Dr. Tomlinson asked, hands going into the pockets of her white lab coat.

What kinds of things? Coop thought hazily, trying to make out the fair-haired figure mere feet away from him as he gave his head a small bob up and down.

Pleased, Dr. Tomlinson motioned for Elizabeth to release Coop's hand. "Okay, Sean. Can you show me two fingers, please?"

With a small grunt, Coop forced his shaking hand to hold up two bunny ears before the effort became too great and his hand fell back onto the bed.

"Good, Sean," Dr. Tomlinson replied. She removed the stethoscope she wore around her neck and placed the ear pieces into her ears. "I am going to ask you to take some breaths for me, alright?"

 _Fuck._ Nervously, Jimmy watched the doctor move to the other side of Coop's bed. Jimmy hoped and prayed against hope that he wouldn't be treated to another episode of Coop writhing in pain.

The sudden placement of cold metal against his bare chest brought Coop back from the brink of sleep and he gave Dr. Tomlinson a weary gaze.

"Okay, Sean, when I say in, I want you to breathe in. Alright?"

"Sure," Coop rasped, the warming metal a soothing distraction from the periodic pricks of pain breaking through the morphine barrier.

"Okay. Breathe in now, please."

 _Whoosh._ Anti-septic burning his nostrils slowed Coop's breath even before the knife plunged into his chest and forced him to expel all the air in his lungs. Screwing his face up, Coop gritted his teeth and forced back in as much air as he dared. Beside him, both Jimmy and Elizabeth turned away from the unearthly look that had overtaken Coop's handsome face.

"And out," Dr. Tomlinson directed, seemingly oblivious to the ordeal her patient was going through.

 _Fuck. Okay._ Slowly and with the same cunning he used in stalking unsuspecting thieves, Coop released the air in bits and pieces, outwitting the pain and letting the sweat pouring down his face cool off the fire emanating from his cheeks.

Dr. Tomlinson removed her stethoscope from Coop's chest and placed it back around her neck. She gave Coop's blanketed thigh a light pat. "Good job, Sean. When you wake up again I want you to try and do as many deep breaths as you can. I know it is painful for you, but it is important. Alright?"

Exhausted, Coop let out a grunt of agreement before letting his eyes close.

Shuffling past Jimmy and Elizabeth, Dr. Tomlinson gave them a quick nod before heading towards the doorway.

Relieved her son was back to sleep, Elizabeth swallowed her nausea down and rose to her feet. "Doctor, can I have a quick word with you before you go? Please?"

"Of course," said Dr. Tomlinson, gesturing for Elizabeth to follow her into the hallway.

Once sure they were out of Coop's earshot, Elizabeth faced Dr. Tomlinson."First, I want you to know how grateful I am for all the care you've given Sean so far," Elizabeth began, crossing her arms. "But I can't stand by and let anyone put him through any more suffering than is necessary."

"I am afraid I do not understand what you mean, Mrs. Cooper."

"I think you know what I'm getting at. Sean was in so much pain that he almost passed out a minute ago when you made him breathe like that!"

Dr. Tomlinson began to fiddle and tighten her bun. "Mrs. Cooper, I am sympathetic to what you are saying. And please believe me when I say we are doing everything we can to keep Sean's pain and discomfort to a minimum. But it is a constant balancing act. Now that he is waking up, it is imperative that we get Sean to exercise his lungs. Because he is laying down, the secreations that he would normally expel from his lungs are left to sit there and build up. And that build up is one of those things that could pneumonia. Pneumonia could threaten Sean's life."

Shivering, Elizabeth stole a quick glance at Coop. With eyes shut and his breathing steady and even, he appeared to be sleeping peacefully. "This whole thing is so cruel."

"It is," Dr. Tomlinson acknowledged. "But sometimes it is just as cruel to be kind. The more we push now, the better off Sean will be in the long run."

"So…are we talking long-term now?" Elizabeth asked, rubbing her hands together. "Are you saying that Sean _will_ be okay?"

Dr. Tomlinson put a hand up. "One step at a time here. It is still far too early to say what Sean's long-term prognosis is. But, focusing on right now, Sean is doing very well and I am very pleased with his progress. The first twenty-four to seventy-two hours are critical and Sean has steadily improved throughout that period. But I cannot say without certainty that he is out of the woods yet. It is just too soon to tell."

Elizabeth sighed. "I know. I guess I was just hoping you could."

"And I am very sorry to cut this conversation short, but I must be going. I need to check up on another patient." With a brief wave, Dr. Tomlinson quickly disappeared through the doorway and past the bustling triage desk.

Feeling shaky, Elizabeth was relieved to see Jimmy had come up to the doorway and was glad when he moved to steady her. "Thank you, Jimmy."

"No problem. Let's sit down," said Jimmy, desperate to give his sore legs another breather.

Elizabeth shook her head and removed Jimmy's arm from around her waist. "No, Jimmy. I appreciate all you've done and you staying here so long. But it's time for you to get home to your own family. If there is any change with Sean, I promise to phone you right away."

Almost ready to fall over from sheer exhaustion, Jimmy had to accept that the time had come for a break. _I'll be of no use to you or Coop if I pass out here and crack my head open._ "Alright. I'll be back first thing tomorrow morning. You promise to call me if anything happens?"

"Yes."

"Okay," said Jimmy, reaching into his pocket for his car keys and trying to remember where he had placed his prescription.

* * *

So engrossed he was with _Gone with the Wind_ , Danny didn't look up until Coop plopped down beside him and bounced him upward.

"Danny, we gotta talk," Coop said tersely, fumbling with his belt buckle.

 _Hmmm, time has once again loosened your lips, eh, Cooper?_ Taking off his baseball cap and tossing it onto the coffee table with the book, Danny turned to face Coop. "Sure. What's up?"

"Hell, I don't even know where to begin this time," Coop began, pulling Robin's sleeping body onto his lap from the top of the couch. As the sleepy feline began to resettle himself onto Coop's lap, Coop petted him absently as he stared off into space.

Satisfied Coop was settled, Danny offered him shrug. "It's alright if you don't have a set topic of conversation in mind. How was your nap?"

Coop sighed, barely noticing the prickling pain from Robin beginning to claw his thighs in contentment. "Not great. Think I got twenty minutes of shut-eye before I was back down there."

Danny raised his eyebrows in surprise. "How'd it go?"

Coop shook his head and leaned back. "I dunno. Ma looked a bit better. Jimmy looks like a wreck from the bits I was able to make out. It's all a confusing blur now. I still can't seem to focus down there for more than five seconds at a time. And it's driving me crazy!"

Danny put a hand onto Coop's shoulder. "I know. The morphine did that to my dad, too. He was completely out of it for a least a week. Kept asking when his parents were coming to come visit him when they'd both been dead for at least five years."

"And that's what's happening to me! Ma said something that reminded me of Pop-Pop and I was asking where he was! But now that I'mtback here and got my wits back I know damned well he's been dead for ten years. And I hate feeling so out of it and what all this shit is doing to Ma and I'm sick and tired of the pain each and every time I'm back!" Coop bellowed, wincing in pain as Robin clawed him before taking off into the kitchen.

Danny gave his chin a thoughtful tap. "Well, remember the alternative of no pain, no gain, Coop? Being six feet under and maybe doing what I do for a living."

Coop shuddered; it was inconceivable now that he had even considered the idea of wanting to die and throw away the amazing second chance he had been given. "God, Danny. You know I didn't mean it like that. No matter what crap I gotta put up with when I'm back down there for good, I'll handle it. Just like I always have."

Danny smiled. "That's more like the Coop I know; the stubborn bastard who never gives up or backs down when he knows he's right!"

Coop rubbed his eyes. "That does bring me to something I really do gotta talk to you about, Danny."

"And what's that?"

Coop cleared his throat before speaking. "I appreciate you letting be here instead of having those dreams; with everything going on, 'Nam is one less thing I need to think about right now. But,I gotta ask you to do the same favour for Jimmy. Don't let him go through what I went though."

"How do you mean?"

Coop sighed. "I know Jimmy fucked up when he didn't go out with me the other night. And I know he knows that. But please, I gotta ask you not to let what he did run over and over in his head like that 'Nam shit runs through mine. Please don't let him end up like me. I couldn't stand that happening to him."

 _Damn._ Danny reached for his baseball cap and began to bend its brim. "Coop, I know you're looking out for your pal and all, but I'm afraid there's not much I can do about that. I'm not Jimmy's agent. He's outside my jurisdiction. Jimmy's going to handle what happened somehow. How he copes with it is not something I can control."

"Danny," Coop said tiredly, getting to his feet to grab some time alone with his thoughts. "I don't know how you've managed to do half the shit you've done so far, but you gotta be able to do something. I promise to never ask you for another favour if you'll just do this one thing for me. I don't care how," Coop stated as he began to head for the den. "I dunno, send him good visions, let him come here maybe. Just do whatever you can do!"

 _Bring Jimmy over here? Hmmm, maybe._ Deep in thought, Danny leaned back to consider the dynamics of the idea Coop had just planted inside his head.

* * *

With a sigh, Jimmy banged the door of his shut and dropped the small paper bag containing his antibiotics on the side table along with his car keys. He didn't care to admit it, but being home was a relief.

"Daddy!"

Looking down, Jimmy almost fell over as Patty wrapped herself around his sore legs. Seeing his daughter dressed in only a white undershirt and underpants, Jimmy wondered where Eileen was.

"Whoa, Pattycake!" said Jimmy, scooping the pudgy girl in his arms and scooping her into his arms for a quick toss in the air that made her giggle with delight. Lowering Patty back to the floor, Jimmy gave her a small smile. "Where's your mother?"

"She and Tommy are upstairs having a nap," Patty called, running back to the colouring book and crayons she had abandoned in the middle of the living room. "I was having one too, but I woked up."

"Well, Patty," Jimmy replied, joining Patty in the living room and dropping onto the couch. "Daddy's also pretty tired and a nap sounds like a mighty good idea right now. Where's your brother?"

"Adam's over at Frank's house," Patty said slowly, staring at orange and green cat she was filling in. "Daddy, why weren't you home last night? You was supposed to play with me."

Jimmy sighed, wishing Eileen was here so he would have some idea of what had gone on or been explained to the children over the past twenty-four hours since he'd been home. "Your Uncle Coop had a bit of an accident, Patty. I was visiting him at the hospital to make sure he's getting better. Your Aunty Elizabeth also needed some company."

Absently chewing on one of her pigtails, Patty joined Jimmy on the sofa. "Mommy told us Uncle Coop was hurt. But that's all she tolded me before she sent me out of the kitchen. What's wrong with Uncle Coop, Daddy? Does he have an owie?"

 _God._ Patty's naïve innocence over the whole situation almost made Jimmy tear up, but losing it with a confused five-year-old was not about to be added to his laundry list of sins. Jimmy grabbed Patty under the arms and hauled her onto his lap. "Come here, Pattycake. And you listen good, okay?"

Wrapping her arms around Jimmy, Patty leaned into his chest. "Okay, Daddy."

"Your…your Uncle Coop has got quite a few owies," Jimmy said slowly. "But I want you to know that the doctors and nurses at the hospital are doing a good job fixing him up and that I think he's going to be okay."

Patty looked up at Jimmy with tearful, hazel eyes. "Do you think of I tooked all the Band-Aids in the bathroom over to the hospital that will help Uncle Coop get better?"

 _If only everything was that easy to fix, Patty._ Jimmy gave Patty a quick kiss on the top of her head. "That's alright, Patty. The doctors and nurses have lots of Band-Aids at the hospital for Uncle Coop. Anyways, I think it's time you get back to your nap, honey. You know your mother won't be happy to wake up and find you didn't finish it."

Patty tried in vain to stifle a yawn. "But I'm not sleepy, Daddy."

Jimmy's eyes began to close. "But Daddy's very, very sleepy, Patty. Do you think you could lay with me here a while and help me fall asleep?"

Patty nodded, letting Jimmy pull her onto his chest as he sprawled over the couch. Hugging Patty, it was only a few minutes before her eyes closed. Seconds later, the sound of Patty's even breathing lulled Jimmy into instant unconsciousness.

* * *

Though the room was temperate, Jimmy shivered as he began to awaken. The worst dream of his life had been so vivid, so _real._ Coop shot and clinging to life, warm blood gushing through his fingers...shaking his head, Jimmy closed his mind to the visions he had seen. _It was just a fucking nightmare. Get over it!_

Groggily, Jimmy groaned and stretched as the ancient, heavy oak furniture of Coop's bedroom came into focus. He was unsure exactly how he'd ended up in Coop's bed. As a rule, he did his best to not drink too much and overnight it at his partner's house to avoid Eileen's wrath the following morning or whatever time he happened to make it home. But with the way things were progressing between them it must have finally happened.

Trying to remember just how many beers or shots of whisky he'd had, Jimmy stumbled to his feet and began to make his way towards Coop's kitchen for some water. Letting out a sigh, Jimmy was sure his partner would already be up and ready to poke fun at whatever antics had occurred the night previous.

Being mindful to watch his step in case Robin had curled up in some random spot in the hallway, Jimmy shot a glance at one of the love seats to see if that cat was resting there and his journey onward could be made in peace. Then Jimmy froze.

No purring cat was curled up on the sofa. Instead, hunched intently over a copy of _Newsweek,_ was a lanky man that looked startlingly familiar to Jimmy from somewhere. Then it hit him. No longer a mere phantom captured in a long ago black and white photo, Danny Holtz sat mere feet away from Jimmy in full living colour.


	37. Summer Storm

Sensing someone staring at him, Danny flung _Newsweek_ onto the coffee table. He hoped that Coop would be in a decent frame of mind for their next round of chatting. _He's a good guy, but can be a real pain in the ass when he's in those moods of his and won't listen to reason._ Turning around, Danny's eyes widened as Jimmy instead entered his visual field.

To say Jimmy's blood ran cold from the surprised stare Danny shot him would be an understatement. His whole body froze up, anchored in place as it came to him with horrible certainty that Coop getting shot hadn't just been his worst fears playing out in a horrible nightmare. How else could he have recognized the face Elizabeth had pointed out to him during his hospital marathon?

Recovering from his astonishment, Danny climbed to his feet. _The Boss sure worked fast on this one!_ He offered Jimmy a warm smile and a tilt of his blue baseball cap. "So, you must be Jimmy. Good to finally meet you! I've heard all about you from Coop of course, but it's always nice to put a face to a name. Don't you think?"

Continuing to gape at Danny, the blood drained from Jimmy's face. _Either you've fucking lost it or you've had some bad liquor or coffee. Or something! Take a deep breath and close your eyes and then you'll realize you've just nodded off in the patrol car again and you will make sure to sock Coop one if he drew a mustache on you again._ Scrunching his eyes shut, Jimmy began to rub his temples.

Though he knew it wouldn't be seen, Danny gave Jimmy an understanding nod. "Don't sweat it. I get that this must be strange for you. It's usually my job to explain how this all works, but I think Coop would do a better job of that. I'll go get him for you."

 _Coop?_ At the mention of his partner's name, Jimmy felt every muscle and nerve in his body tense with nervous anticipation.

* * *

Sullenly, Coop tried to follow the plot of the _Ironside_ rerun his TV was playing. But it was a fruitless effort as visions of living his own life confined to a wheelchair and having to rely on government handouts for his survival crowded Coop's subconscious. _Sure, I'm alive, but what sort of life is left when I finally get back to it full-time?_

With a sigh, Coop wrestled off his T-shirt. Though the room seemed comfortable, the cotton clung to his torso with sweat. Air hitting his bare skin, Coop briefed a sigh of relief. Idly, he began swinging the T-shirt to and fro from his hand, hoping Robin's antics of trying to catch it would chase away his melancholy.

 _Even if you think you've got a good reason, there's no excuse to be feeling like this this time. You got your second chance and now you're too miserable to even appreciate it._ Coop sighed. Until recent times, there had seldom been justification for the brooding moods that seemed to creep up on him when he least wanted them to. States of mind Danny had ruefully referred to as "black cloud moods" back in the day because his friend had been as impossible to cheer up or reason with as a developing summer storm. Once in place they had stubbornly refused to let up until their thunder and lightning had run their courses.

Playing a listless tug-of-war with Robin, Coop tried to put himself into an optimistic state. He had received another chance to make things right with Jimmy. His mother wouldn't be forced to watch black dirt thrown onto the casket of a second son. _You damn well don't deserve it, but whoever is out there threw you a lifeline. But why does it have to be so hard?! Why can't Jimmy and I just have something for once without there being so much crap in the way?!_

"Coop!"

Coop raised his head and surrendered the T-shirt to the cat. Danny's shrill call had scattered the clouds that had rapidly been closing in. "What?" Coop yelled, not in the mood for another minute picking of his brain.

"Think you could come out here a minute?"

"Why?"

"I'll explain in a sec. Just get over here!"

"Fine!" Coop snarled, clenching a fist and ignoring Robin rolling all over the carpet with his hard-won cotton prey. _What the hell does Danny want this time?_ With a grunt, he switched off the television and greeted Danny at the den entrance with crossed arms. "What's so important you made me walk all the way over here?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Just have something to show you. Follow me."

Scratching his chest, Coop begrudgingly followed Danny towards the living room. _I knew it. He's gonna play the damn shrink again! He never knows when to stop!_ "I'm telling you Danny this thing you're showing me had better be good or I'm gonna deck you!"

* * *

Alone in the still room, Jimmy had managed to collapse onto the sofa. Sinking into the cushions, he got little chance to rationalize the scene he had just witnessed when he heard two sets of footsteps enter the room.

"This should please you!" said Danny, shooting Coop a pleased grin.

Coop gave Danny a patronizing smirk. "Oh really? What is it I'm supposed to be looking at?"

 _God. Do you need your eyes checked for something?_ Impatiently, Danny gestured a thumb towards the couch where Jimmy had turned around at the sound of their voices.

"What…" Coop started before Jimmy's piercing, nervous gaze silenced him. _Fuck! Jimmy! What the hell he is doing here?!_

 _Coop!_ Jimmy's palms began to tremble in time to his racing heartbeat. Coop stood mere feet away from him, clad only in a pair of faded blue jeans and brown loafers. Not a sign of medical paraphernalia marred any place of Coop's body. The relief at seeing Coop's bare chest muscular and intact from bullets that had never pierced it made Jimmy so dizzy he had to grip the armrest of the couch for balance. It _had_ all been a horrible nightmare; he hadn't committed the commandment of policing and abandoned his partner. _It's all okay. Fuck, it'll all be okay once this alcohol wears off._

Pleased, Danny looked at Jimmy and Coop with satisfaction. "See, Coop? What'd I tell you, huh? It's a good surprise!"

For a moment, Coop stood still with stunned disbelief, unable to take his eyes away from Jimmy. At long last the mental rollercoaster he had been on had finally reached an exhilarating drop. But Jimmy couldn't be here unless he was…

"Fuck!" Coop whispered under his breath. Abruptly, he spun around to give Danny a hard glare. "What'd you guys do to him, Danny? What the hell did you do?!"

"Nothing!" Danny yelled, the menacing glint in Coop's eyes making him back away. _So much for this aspect of the mission going smoothly!_

"Look, I don't care what you guys do to me! But fucking around with my friends is something else!" Coop snarled, making a lunge for Danny.

"Coop, easy!" Jimmy boomed, leaping off the couch and tackling Coop to the ground before he could punch Danny's head.

"Lemme me up!" Coop yelled, trying to push Jimmy off him as he struggled to get up. But Jimmy continued to wrestle with Coop, laying over his chest and grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the ground. With a frustrated groan, Coop gave up the fight and quit struggling. Face bright red and chest heaving, Coop couldn't help but focus on Jimmy's rapid breaths ghosting his skin.

Relieved that he was safe, Danny offered Jimmy his hand and helped him to his feet. Thanks for saving me there!" said Danny, giving Jimmy's back a thankful pat.

For a moment, Jimmy was stunned when the hand didn't shoot through his chest, but instead gave a loud slap. _No ghost could do that! There's a sensible explanation for all that shit you dreamt about!_ He gave Danny a nervous grin. "No problem. Coop knows I'll deck him if he pounds anyone who ain't a perp."

"More like the other way around!" Coop shot back, sitting up and giving both his friends hard looks. "Just what the hell is all this?"

Certain Jimmy would continue to play the role of bodyguard, Danny gave Coop a simple shrug. "All I did was what you asked. I pulled some strings and brought Jimmy over. And you trying to beat me up is the thanks I get!"

Confused, Jimmy backed away from Coop and Danny until the back of the couch halted his retreat.

Growling, Coop pulled himself upright. "I got no idea what you're talking about!"

Shaking his head, Danny pulled a small notepad out of his letterman jacket, flicking through until he came to the last page. "Short memory you have as usual, Coop. Let me read back what you said to me. You said to me at 3:49 pm on Monday July 29, 1968 the following: I don't know how you've managed to do half the shit you've done so far, but you gotta be able to do something. I promise to never ask you for another favour if you'll just do this one thing for me. I don't care how… send him good visions, let him come here maybe. Just do whatever you can do. Did you or did you not say that to me?"

Sheepishly, Coop lowered his head. "Uh, yeah," he mumbled. "I might've said something like that. You could've given me some warning that this is what you were gonna do!"

Danny flicked his notebook close and put it back in his pocket. "I had no idea how the Boss was going to handle your request. Even if I had known it's not like you would've listened to me so there's no point even discussing it." Looking towards Jimmy, Danny saw him gaping with bewildered confusion. "Anyways, it's probably best you get cracking on filling Jimmy in on how things work around here."

"What? Wait a minute! That's your job!"

Grabbing _Newsweek_ , Danny shook his head. "No, it's not, actually. My jurisdiction covers only being an agent to you. Explaining stuff to your buddy is yours." Danny licked his dry lips. "I'm going for a drink. I'll pop in later and clear up any questions Jimmy has after you two finish talking over things." Before heading for the kitchen, Danny turned around to give Jimmy a tip of his hat. "Thanks again for helping me out, Jimmy. I never very good at keeping that pal of mine under control in our baseball days. You do a good job of that. Keep it up!"

"Sure," Jimmy muttered, stumbling onto the couch as he watched Danny's form retreat. If his sanity hadn't shattered into a schizophrenic masterpiece, he must've gotten a bad bottle of scotch. _How else would any of this end up making sense?_

Coop plopped himself down beside Jimmy. He was ashamed to have once again given into his temper before getting the whole story, but there was little he could do to erase that now. Instead, he turned his focus to Jimmy. "You okay?"

Jimmy's nerves continue to sear and it was an effort to still his shaking hands. "I think I need a drink."

Coop had hoped for a brush against his cheek or Jimmy's hand intertwining into his, but he supposed it was too soon to hope for that. He remembered the six-pack he had dumped by his armchair. "I've got some beer handy. It'll be warm, though."

"I don't care."

Bending over, Coop managed to wriggle one of the cans lose. Popping it open, he handed it over to Jimmy.

With one swing, Jimmy chugged down the beer and crumbled the can with his hand. "I could use another."

"Sure," said Coop, handing over another can as something pricked his memory. "Not like it's gonna do any good though."

The tab breaking off as he tried to open the can, Jimmy dropped it to his feet with an irritated grumble. "What do you mean it won't do any good?"

Coop gave Jimmy a sour look. "Some stupid rule we're not allowed to get drunk over here. I can't remember the reasoning behind it other than I think it's fucking pathetic."

 _Over here? What the hell is "Here?"_ Jimmy rubbed his eyes. "What do you mean by "Here?" We always end up getting drunk at your place. Why would you suddenly change that?"

 _Christ._ Coop sighed. "Didn't Danny tell you anything?"

Jimmy shook his head. "If you mean that dude I saved from your haymaker then no. Who the hell is that guy?"

"That's Danny. He's my…" Coop paused. _Friend? Best friend?_ He shook his head, struggling for a term that wouldn't lessen the magnitude Jimmy's friendship held for him, whether they remained lovers or not. "He's an old friend," Coop said at last. "We played baseball at Penn together."

Jimmy wiped sweat off his forehead. "Okay. I think I get all this now. This Danny guy is an old college buddy of yours and you're both kidding around because we both know I'm always out of it when I wake up from a hangover. Alright, Coop, you guys got me!"

Coop's mouth twisted into a bitter smirk. _If only it were that simple, Jimmy._ "Really, Jimmy? That's what you think's happening right now? Some stupid prank?"

"Give it up, I just told you I know you're trying to pull something on me. Anyways, I got no idea where you got the liquor we drank last night Coop, but you gotta get rid of it," Jimmy began, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. "It gave me the craziest nightmare."

A small, sardonic chuckle escaped Coop's lips. _Jimmy ,Jimmy, always so sure everything has an easy answer._ "What sort of nightmare?"

Jimmy rubbed his eyes. "You're gonna think this is crazy. But I dreamt you got shot and that me and that rookie kid Malone were at the hospital with your mom and she told me that that buddy of yours was dead…" Jimmy trailed off. "Forget it. Like I said, it's crazy."

Coop was tempted to go along with the charade Jimmy was assembling. Despite the torture he had been through since Jimmy had told him things were over, he would never wish his partner to have to endure even a morsel of it. _But then again no one ever said life was easy, Jimmy._

"Hate to say it, Jimmy, but what you think was just a nightmare was real. It really happened. I did get shot. And even though it'd probably be smarter of me not to say this, I'm gonna be honest and confirm for you that yes Danny is dead and that I think he has come back to haunt me."

"N-no," Jimmy stuttered, his eyes looking up and down Coop's chest. No bloody bandages or bulging sutures were to be seen. Coop's skin was clear and unmarked, his face radiant and healthy again. "You're fine, Coop. Don't talk like that."

"I'm just giving you the facts."

Jimmy snorted. "This joke of yours is really starting to wear thin. If you got shot then how the hell could you be here and talking to me then, huh?"

Coop shrugged. "Can't really tell you that when I still don't get it myself. All I know now is there is some sort of world beyond consciousness and that when I said to you God didn't exist I was wrong."

"And ya know I told you to never talk about that sort of bullshit with me ever again!"

Coop rewarded Jimmy with a smirk and ran a finger along his forearm. He felt rewarded when Jimmy responded to his touch. "Hey, I'm telling you something exists! You're not gonna run off on me and get another partner over that are you?"

 _You should get a new partner._ Jimmy turned away from Coop, but it did little good. He would never be able to forgot or escape the heavy burden of guilt for the events those six cruel words had unleashed.

 _Fuck._ "Jimmy…," said Coop, moving to put an arm around Jimmy's shoulders.

Jimmy recoiled from Coop's touch. "Coop, stop."

Confused, Coop removed his arm. "Why? Are you telling me that you still feel the same the last time we saw each other before we both ended up here? Don't you get that there's nothing left to be afraid of anymore?"

Jimmy began wringing his hands. It was a struggle to keep his voice even. "I don't get you, Coop. Your pal does you some sort of favour and you almost punch his lights out. I fuck you over and you're not ripping me to shreds. What's the deal?"

"Maybe we should just deal with one thing at a time here," said Coop, heading for Jimmy's jaw and beginning to trail his lips towards Jimmy's own slowly.

"Coop…"

"Jimmy, shut up," Coop whispered, diving towards Jimmy's lips.

* * *

Rubbing Coop's hand, Elizabeth was glad her son continued to rest peacefully. _God, if you can just please let Sean rest until this is all over I promise to never ask you for another thing as long as a live._

Looking for something to distract her from the oppressive stuffiness and burning antiseptics of the small room, Elizabeth picked up the collected works of William Wordsworth that Jimmy had brought over. Ignoring the smiling faces from the family photograph of just before Coop had gone to Vietnam, Elizabeth opened the cover and read the writing on the first leaf. _Property of William Cooper_ read the first inscription in William's fine, careful hand. _Happy 15_ _th_ _Birthday, Sean. To remind you there is always something better to aspire to on the horizon. With love, PopPop. June 1958_ read the second.

Elizabeth slammed the book shut and put it back onto the side table. She stared at Coop's still body, unable to focus on anything but the white bandages covering her son's chest. _You had it, Sean. Every chance to not end up here like this. Why couldn't you have just listened to me instead of your father?_

* * *

"I told you not to creep up on me like that!" Murphy growled, giving Joe a hard look.

"Sorry, Murph," said Joe, swallowing down the last bitter mouthful of his coffee with distaste.

"Don't worry about it, kid," Murphy said, grabbing Joe's mug and flinging it onto the desk behind him. "You gotta quit doing that, though. Sneaking up on me like a phantom!"

Joe grinned. "Didn't you know Phantom is my real name?"

Murphy gave Joe a blank look.

"'Phantom' Joe Malone! Played for the Quebec Bulldogs! One of the greatest hockey players ever! Don't tell me you've never heard of him!"

Murphy shook his head. "Only team I concern myself with is the Flyers. Phantom might be a good nickname for you, but I still want you to quit sneaking up on me."

Joe sighed. "I'll think about it. He ran a hand through his tangled, curly hair. Partnered with Murphy for the duration, the last twenty-four hours had been non-stop as both had tried to do their part in catching Cooper's shooter. Joe knew Murphy shared his growing frustration that despite all the interrogations and endless patrols no viable suspect had emerged.

"All over the news and still no perp in custody!" Murphy snarled, glancing at a crumbled newspaper with distaste. "And hardly any tips! It's like this guy is some ghost that has vanished without a trace!"

"Maybe we just got to be patient. It's early days yet, Murph."

"Early days!" Murphy exploded, drawing a stare from the desk sergeant. "Didn't they teach you anything in that damn academy? Don't you get that if we don't have someone on our radar within forty-eight hours that the chances of even solving this thing are almost nothing?!"

His ears turning red, Joe looked at his scuffed shoes.

Catching the wounded look in Joe's eyes, Murphy felt a prick of guilt. It wasn't the kid's fault they were in this situation. If any one person had done anything to create this situation, it was him. Then Murphy stopped leaning against the wall and gave it a pound of his fist. _No way. One of our own didn't do this. Cooper brought this on himself. Shook down too many drug dealers in places he shouldn't have!_

Murphy couldn't stand the florescent lights buzzing over his head any longer. "I need to get some fresh air and a smoke. Kid, you feel like joining me?"

"Alright. Not like I got anything better to do right now."

* * *

Serge stared at the dog-eared photo that hadn't left his wallet in twenty-three years. Smiling proudly, younger Serge held two small boys, one in each arm. The boys' faces were almost hidden beneath their dad's too big police hats, but Serge could still make out their expressions clearly. Coop's was daring, but Mikey's more guarded. But put a ball into his hands and the boy had been fearless!

"Serge!"

With a start, Serge tucked the back into his wallet. Shoving it into his pocket, Serge met McCree's icy green gaze.

"Stinson sent me over," said McCree, absently picking a loose thread off his shirt. "Apologies it took a while for me to get out here, but I was in the middle of an interrogation. He told me you wanted to know how things are going."

Serge nodded, his fists beginning to clench. "So tell me."

McCree shrugged. "Don't really have much to tell you. We've done a bunch of interrogations, gotten a few leads that haven't panned out. Best theory I got right now is a drug bust gone wrong or a jealous boyfriend maybe getting revenge. My money at this point is on the last one. Hate to say it at a time like this, Serge, but you know your son kept messing around when he shouldn't have and now it's finally caught up to him."

 _You son of a bitch! How the fuck can you say that shit straight to my face?_ Crossing his arms, Serge went away from the wall he had been leaning against. "We both know what you just said to me is a crock full of shit!"

McCree smirked. If this was the game Serge wanted to play he was ready to take the field. "Come on, Serge. You of all people know what your son is like. Banging on women is one thing, but getting another cop is quite another!"

Serge felt woozy. In brief snatches he'd almost convinced himself Coop's predicament wasn't his fault but that of the monster standing before him. "I knew it!" He hissed. "I knew I couldn't trust you to do it right!"

McCree's mouth twisted into a cruel sneer. "Trust me to do what?"

Serge smashed a fist into his thigh. "Trust that you've got a handle of things in there! I ask you to do one simple thing and look at the bloody hell you've put my son in!"

"Bullshit! My men do exactly what I tell them to do! I don't have undisciplined cops in my precinct!"

Seeing red, Serge grabbed Murphy by the shirtfront and pinned him against the dumpster. "If you had any kind of leadership ability my son wouldn't be laying in that hospital half-dead!"

"Get off me!" McCree growled, pushing Serge off of him and feeling satisfaction when he went flying into the wall and ricocheted onto the ground. "Let me tell you something, _Inspector_ Cooper. My men are disciplined and follow orders! The only reason he isn't in the ground yet is only because I didn't shoot him enough times!"

Rubbing his head from where it had grazed against the bricks, Serge gaped and looked up at McCree. Even after all his suspicions it was still a struggle to fathom what he was hearing was true. "What?"

McCree crossed his arms, letting out a contemptuous snort. "You heard me! Think I'd trust some lowly patrolmen to get rid of your son? Fuck, there just isn't a word for what he is!"

"So what'd you do?" Serge asked, almost in a whisper.

"I shot that queer! And I'd do it again!" McCree yelled, his words echoing and ricocheting throughout the alley.

Stricken, Serge struggled to his feet.

Flushing from torrent of his words, McCree looked around the alley, momentarily fearful someone had heard his shouts. Then his face resumed its arrogant smug. Most of his men were too lazy to waste their breaks walking over to the alleyway he and Serge stood in. He remained safely out of earshot.

"You know there's no point in you saying anything, Serge," said McCree lightly. "I know you won't. Even you aren't fool enough to ruin your own reputation. My advice is to keep quiet and get out of here. I'll even get someone to take you over to the hospital." McCree turned to Serge and flashed him a look of contempt. "After all, if you really did give a damn about your son, that's where you be right now, isn't it?"

Relishing at seeing his last words wound Serge further, McCree strolled confidently out of the alley, smack dab into Joe and Murphy.


	38. Seeds and Weeds

"Fuck!" McCree bellowed, scrambling for the brick wall on his right to keep from toppling to the ground.

Joe flew backwards, but was saved from smashing backward onto the hard concrete by Murphy grabbing him under the arms.

"Sorry, sir," Murphy gasped, smearing sweat across his forehead after making sure Joe was steady on his feet. "Didn't see you."

"How the hell could you not have…" McCree began before a sickening thought crossed his mind. "How long have the two of you been standing here doing nothing?" he shouted, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Not long," said Murphy quickly.

"And what the hell did you hear?" McCree snarled, giving Murphy a hard poke.

Murphy's eyes went wide to match Joe's. "Hear, sir? What do you mean?"

McCree let out a sigh of relief. As usual, Murphy was thick as porridge. It was clear he and the rookie standing before him had heard nothing and had no clue as to what he was alluding to. "Why the hell aren't the two of you in the station working?"

"Just a quick breather, sir," said Joe, regaining his voice and leaning against the wall.

McCree snorted. Today's patrolman had no idea what _real_ work was. "Murphy, you're coming with me to fix up that mess you call paperwork from your last interrogation. Malone, Cooper's father is down there in the alleyway. He came over to see how the investigation is going and I told him I'd get someone to take him back to the hospital. That someone is you."

Murphy gave McCree a quick salute. "No problem, sir. You go on ahead, sir. I gotta give Malone the keys to the patrol car. They're in here somewhere..." said Murphy, beginning to root through his pockets.

With a roll of his eyes, McCree gave the two officers one last contemptuous glare before sauntering off towards the station.

"Murphy…" Joe trailed off, slouching down against the wall. _I couldn't have heard what I thought I heard. It's gotta be this hot sun frying what's left of my brain!_

"What?"

"I dunno about you, but I'm pretty sure I heard McCree say plenty," said Joe, keeping his voice low on the off chance Serge would overhear their conversation.

Murphy grabbed the keys from his pocket and slammed them into Joe's hand. "Shut up and go take Sarge to the hospital like McCree told you to."

Joe straightened up, ignoring the pain from where the keys had dug into his palm. "Murph, I'm 95% sure of what I just…"

"Shut up, kid!" You heard nothing!"

* * *

Jimmy moved his head so Coop's lips collided with his jaw.

 _Fuck._ Releasing an annoyed grunt, Coop tilted Jimmy's head so they made eye contact. "What's the problem, Jimmy?"

Jimmy sighed, moving so there was some space between him and Coop so his friend's gaze wouldn't bore so hard through his eyes. "We can't just pick up like nothing happened."

"Why not?"

Jimmy took a deep breath. "Well, for starters, your buddy's in the other room and…"

Coop snorted. "What, Danny? He's the last guy on earth who'd care about anything like that!"

Jimmy shook his head, wondering if Coop's detestation toward cigarettes didn't extend towards the pot variety.

Coop sighed. _I knew it was too good to be true. Jimmy'sstill terrified of his own shadow when it comes to us._ Coop up the couch and began to head for his bedroom. "Follow me."

Kicking the carpet, Jimmy rose and followed Coop down the hallway.

Once they were in the bedroom, Coop slammed the door shut and twisted the knob to make sure it was locked. With an annoyed gaze, Coop flopped down on the bed, the rickety mattress protesting under his weight. "There. We're alone and Danny can't bust in. You satisfied now?"

Jimmy sat on the bed. Dozens of questions spun around his mind and he blurted out the first one that entered his mouth. "Why wouldn't your buddy care if he walked in on us doing...well, ya know?"

Coop let out a grunt before realizing Jimmy was still in shock and remained uncertain of how the strange new world he was in worked. "You want the truth?"

Jimmy shrugged. "If you think it'll help."

Coop almost relished the news he was about to give Jimmy. It was about damn time to shatter his partner's notions that they were not the only freaks and oddities in the world. "Simple. He's like us, Jimmy, and can relate damn well as to the sort of stuff we've gotten up to."

Jimmy gave Coop a roll of his eyes. "I'll bet," he said, his voice barbed with sarcasm. "Who's his partner in crime then?"

Coop grinned. "Oh, you know him. Or you've seen him at least. Henry Phillips, the assistant DA that always seems to be calling us up about one thing or another this past month."

Jimmy blinked. He knew Phillips by sight only, a tall, silent man whom he had taken to have no flaws or vices. "And how would you know that? Did your buddy tell you this bullshit while you were drunk enough to believe him?"

Coop stretched his arms above his head. "Nah. I walked in on them about six years back and found out for myself."

"You WHAT?"

Coop sighed. "Look, Jimmy, Hank—that's what I know Phillips as—and Danny were in law school together. I had to return a glove one time and I walked in on them by mistake. One thing led to another and I ended up telling Danny I was the same as him and that their secret was safe with me. That's how. Me finding out wasn't exactly intentional!"

Jimmy laid down on the bed next to Coop. "Fuck."

"Yeah, that's pretty much what I thought. Still do, actually."

Jimmy rubbed his eyes, the warnings of a sick headache pounding at his temples. "All of this is crazy."

Coop stared at the ceiling. "Not any crazier than seeing a ghost or whatever you want to call Danny."

Jimmy let out a chuckle. "I still swear I had a dream where your mom and me looked at some picture of him and she told me he was dead. Fuck, we must've got some bad liquor, Coop."

Coop shook his head. He wrapped an arm around Jimmy's shoulders and felt rewarded when his partner didn't recoil from his touch. "What picture are you talking about there, Jimmy?"

"That stupid picture you got all mad about that one time. That one that had your major league buddy in it. I asked who the guy in the middle was and you got all pissed at me for no reason."

Coop's mouth formed a tight grimace. He knew damned well what picture Jimmy was referring to, one of the few pictures of Danny he hadn't given to Hank after Danny's murder. "I guess you're beginning to find out some of that stuff about me you'd be better off not knowing, Jimmy."

Jimmy sat up. He gave Coop's shoulder a hard punch. "Stuff you should've told me in the first place! If half that shit I dreamed up is actually true!"

Coop sighed and gave Jimmy a sad gaze. "Hate to wreck your fantasy, Jimmy, but it's true. Whatever you think happened happened. And here we are now."

Feeling dizzy, Jimmy laid back down, pulling Coop's arm off of him. The moment he'd been dreading was now coming to pass. His betrayal was at the forefront of his and Coop's conversation. "Coop," Jimmy began before Coop raised a hand.

"Shut up, Jimmy. I don't want to discuss it because I've had two days to think about it and it's the last thing I wanna talk about now. All I've got to say is I know you're sorry and I forgive you. When we're both in our right minds we can talk about it. Someday."

 _What do you mean you've had two days to think about it? I'm the one who's been in agony for two days while you were dead to the world!_ "Coop,…"

"Jimmy, I told you to give it a rest!"

Jimmy clenched a fist and it was an effort to prevent it from colliding with Coop's mouth. "What do you mean you've had two days to think about it?! While you've been sleeping away we've..."

"Stop it!" Coop bellowed, sitting up and giving Jimmy's arm a sharp slap. "I got no clue what you think, but it ain't accurate! When I say I had two days to think it over I had two days to think it over! When I wasn't down there drugged out of my mind I've been here dealing with Danny playing my shrink and other crap!"

"Ugh!" Jimmy groaned. "And just what the hell is here? Would you please clear me up on that so I can quit questioning my sanity here?"

Coop shrugged and kicked off his loafers. "I don't really know. Just…somewhere in between life and death I guess! Or…God, trying to think of what this all is gives me a fucking headache!"

"Then what the hell am _I_ doing here?"

"Simple. I asked Danny to let you come over. And for some strange reason he actually listened to me because I sure as hell didn't deserve that after the hard time I've given him."

"Wait, WHAT?!"

Coop sighed. "I told you it was complicated. Let me just ask you something, Jimmy. Before you popped over here what's the last thing you remember doing?"

Jimmy scrunched up his face, trying to remember. "Conking out on my couch."

"Bingo! I'm not sure what the whole set-up is, but it's arranged so we come over here when we're asleep. Or at least I think that's how Danny explained it to me. I didn't listen to him too good for a while there..." Coop trailed off.

Jimmy ground his teeth. "I don't know what sort of crap you've gotten into, but this whole thing is crazy. God, I've got to be going insane here!"

Absently, Coop cracked a knuckle. "Welcome to the club. The Looney Bin's always got plenty of room for more!"

"You ain't crazy, Coop. How many fucking times do I gotta tell you that?"

Coop smirked slightly. "So you and Danny keep telling me."

"Great. Your buddy, who's supposedly been dead for years, knows more about you than I do. Terrific!"

Coop sighed. "He knows stuff as part of his job, Jimmy. And when you're stuck with Danny for two days you'll end up talking. He just has that sort of effect on people! But enough about him for right now! When I said we need to deal with things one step at a time I mean we need to deal with things one step at a time."

"How do you mean?"

Coop propped himself up on one elbow and gave Jimmy a hard stare. "Jimmy, you fucked up. And you know that. And I know you know that. And sometime soon we're gonna have to hash it out and decide how we're gonna move forward. But right now I don't want to talk about it."

Jimmy gave Coop a sad smile; he knew well from painful experience winning Coop's forgiveness was not this easy. "Coop, you're gonna have to stop running from the past sometime and deal with it."

Coop smirked. "Jimmy, lemme tell you something. If you think about the past you're gonna get so buried in bad memories within five seconds and be so tangled up in the weeds at the bottom of the hole that you'll never be able to get up again. And the future's too much of a pain to worry about. So I'm telling you right now that the best thing is to just live in the moment."

Jimmy snorted. "Since when did you stop thinking of the past and holding grudges, Coop? That ain't like you."

Coop moved himself so he laid across Jimmy's chest. "And sometimes things happen to change people for the better. Don't you agree, Jimmy?"

"Coop…"

Coop put an index finger over Jimmy's lips, silencing him. With a lustful glint in his eye, he brushed hair off Jimmy's forehead and moved his lips along Jimmy's jaw, feeling bliss as Jimmy's lips dove for his in return. Though they had only been apart two days, it could just as easily been two lifetimes ago. Coop's hand running along the nape of Jimmy's neck, Coop's spare hand made a beeline for Jimmy's waist and his fingers trembled with trepidation as they hit bare skin.

* * *

Joe gripped the steering wheel so hard that one could almost see his knuckle bones poking through his skin. Beside Joe, Sarge sat silently, having not said so much as a word to the rookie weaving through rush hour traffic to Penn General.

Though he tried to keep his mind focused on the road, Joe's thoughts kept drifting back to the snatches of that horrible conversation he and Murphy had overheard. Wishing to get away from the other officers loitering around the outside of the station, Murphy had suggested he and Joe sneak a quiet smoke in the alleyway just across the way. How could he have known that that one minute of his life would plant twisted seeds he wished he could destroy?


	39. Tangled Vines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take a moment and thank everyone for reading and all the support I've gotten over the past couple years. It means a lot!

Joe ground his teeth. Unlike the Time Traveller, he did not have the luxury of a time machine to stop himself from hearing McCree's words before they bounced off his eardrums and into his brain with the speed of a Super Ball. _Fuck! What the fuck am I gonna do about this?!_ Joe's untrimmed, greasy locks slipped into his eyes and he batted them away with a sharp flick before turning into the crowded parking lot of Penn General.

Beside Joe, Sarge looked up as the tangled vines of English ivy that adorned the original buildings of the hospital came into view. With a wince, he looked away. The curtain of time was becoming too thin and he almost expected Coop to come running past the ivy veil with his baseball glove in hand to pitch a game against Cornell.

"We're here," Joe said without ceremony. With a sharp jerk, Joe hit the brakes and put the patrol car into park.

"Thanks," Sarge replied tonelessly, getting out of his seat and slamming the door shut behind him. Trying to sum up what little energy remained in his eroded, hallowed out shell, Sarge forced himself towards the newer addition of the hospital that housed the ICU and main lobby.

Joe glared at Sarge's retreating backside _,_ all previous sympathy he had held for the man gone. His mouth setting into a grim line, Joe put the car into gear, the tires giving a loud screech against the pavement as he floored the gas.

* * *

"Hello, Elizabeth."

Giving a quick glance to make sure Coop was alright, Elizabeth released her grip on her son's hand and stood up to give Father Mack a quick hug. "Hello, Father. Thanks for coming back. It's good to see you."

"And I am glad to see you both as well. How's Sean doing, Elizabeth?" asked Father Mack, pulling up a chair and joining Elizabeth at Coop's bedside.

"Well, Dr. Buchanan—you know, that doctor that came to see us that first night—just came in and gave something so Sean will sleep through the night." Elizabeth put her hand back in Coop's. "He said it's still early, but that Sean is making excellent progress," said Elizabeth, her voice cracking. "That he's doing well when you consider all the things that he has been through."

A flash of relief passing through his features, Father Mack rubbed his eyes. "I'm glad to hear it. I told you and Brogan to keep faith and look what is happening! God is working his miracles in Sean, Elizabeth."

Tears sprang to Elizabeth's eyes and she averted her gaze so Father Mack would not see them.

* * *

_It had been a valiant effort for Elizabeth to keep down the chicken broth that had wanted to escape her stomach. She had relaxed when the contents of the vial had been emptied and Dr. Buchanan had withdrawn the large syringe he had put into one of Coop's IVs._

_Giving his mustache a quick twist, Dr. Buchanan gave the syringe to Nurse Taylor to dispose of. "Sean should have a quiet night with the sedative we just gave him, Mrs. Cooper. I know that he's been awake off and on today, but he needs his rest. It's best that he sleeps through the night without interruption."_

" _Thank you," Elizabeth whispered, giving Coop's hand a quick pat before rising to her feet. "Is it alright if I have a quick word with you?"_

" _Alright," said Dr. Buchanan, crossing his arms._

" _Umm…is it possible we can speak where Sean won't hear us?"_

_Giving Elizabeth an understanding nod, he led her to the doorway where they would be out of earshot on the off chance his patient awoke. "Yes, Mrs. Cooper?"_

_Elizabeth wrung her hands. "I know you keep saying it's still early and all that, but are you sure you can't give me some sort of idea of what Sean's chances are?"_

_Dr. Buchanan bit his lip. "He's still in the critical twenty-four to seventy-two hour phase, Mrs. Cooper. I will say I feel much better about his prognosis then when we first spoke the other night. All things considered, Sean is progressing very well and I'm very pleased that there are no complications like infection at this point in time. But you must keep in mind that Sean's injuries and the surgery we had to do to repair the damage was extensive. In short, Sean's recovery is going to be a slow process. To give you an idea, it's not uncommon for a patient to spend two weeks in the hospital for a spleen removal alone. Taking all of Sean's other injuries into the equation...it's very difficult to say how long his recovery could take."_

_Elizabeth nodded, staring at the floor. "I can understand that. But there is one thing I must ask you, doctor. When you spoke to us that first time did you actually have any hope at all that Sean would make it this far?"  
_

_Dr. Buchanan's mouth grimaced. "To be blunt, I honestly thought if anyone here at the hospital was still talking to you, Mrs. Cooper, it would have been a discussion as to funeral arrangements or the results of an autopsy," said Dr. Buchanan gently, putting a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "And please know how difficult it is for me to say that to you, but I promised you and your husband last night that I would be forthright with you about everything. But you've got to understand that there's still no medical explanation I can offer that explains how your son even made it to the hospital alive. All I can really tell you is that to have Sean doing as well as he is right now without any complications is a miracle. There's no other word for it. It's remarkable."_

" _I suppose not," Elizabeth had said softly and she had given Dr. Buchanan's hand a quick clasp of gratitude._

* * *

Though the room was stuffy, Elizabeth's body went into a brief spasm of shiver that chased her tears away. She felt relief when the warmth from Coop's palm spread throughout her body. She gripped his hand tight as lines of resolution spread across her forehead. Death's icy fingers would _not_ snatch another son away from her clenches.

* * *

Warm and sticky within Coop's arms, Jimmy felt safe and at ease for the first time in the two weeks since his and Coop's subtle affair had blossomed into a torrid romance. His ear fitting snugly into Coop's chest, it was almost impossible for Jimmy to fathom how moments like this could have ever felt alien.

Soft rumbling tickled Jimmy's ear as Coop's breathing became deep and raspy. "You asleep, Coop?"

The worn pillow beneath his head rustled as Coop gave a quick shake of his head. "Nah. Just feeling a bit sleepy is all."

"Yeah, you've only been asleep for two days if I've not lost my marbles!"

Slipping his hand off Jimmy's back, Coop was tempted to grab the spare pillow beside him and bring it down on Jimmy's head. But, for once practicing restraint, he allowed his fist to clench instead. For one wonderful hour, he had been able to forget the obstacles that still littered the path he and Jimmy had yet to take. _If only things could just freeze now and we could stay this way forever._

Jimmy felt Coop's muscles tense beneath his cheek. He ran his hand along his partner's arm. "What's wrong?"

Coop smirked and gave the ceiling a hard stare. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Groaning, Jimmy pulled Coop's arm off of him and sat up. "Yeah, sure. I don't even have to look at you to know when you're lying. You're terrible at it, by the way." He winced momentarily as Coop gave him a hard glare. "And there's no point beating around the bush when we both know what's wrong!"

With a loud grunt, Coop rubbed his eyes. "Shut up, Jimmy. I already told you I don't wanna talk about any of it right now!"

Jimmy lay down beside Coop, joining the staring contest with the plaster. "We're gonna have to discuss it sometime. So it might as well be now because if this all turns out to be me losing it because I've been working too much I want some good to come out of it."

Absently, Coop dropped his hand on Jimmy's chest, running his hand through Jimmy's chest hair. "No point. It won't change anything. What happened happened. It's over."

Jimmy gripped Coop's wrist. "No it ain't. It's all just starting if you think about it."

Grinding his teeth, Coop ripped his hand away from Jimmy. "Fine. What do you want to talk about first, then? You running out on me or me almost getting myself killed?"

Jimmy winced as if Coop had punched him.

 _Fuck._ Knowing his words has seared Jimmy sharply, Coop had to pause before continuing. "I already told you that you screwed up, Jimmy. And we both fucking know that! But can't you just let me forget things for a while? I don't wanna think about what kind of life is waiting for me whenever I decide to get back to it full-time."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

Coop snorted. "Come off it! I'm no doc, but I'm a realist. We've both seen the damage bullets do. And I remember enough to know I'm pretty bad off when all is said and done. So, with my luck, I bet I end up some cripple that'll need someone else to wipe my ass for the rest of my life!"

Jimmy's throat went dry. "I'm sorry. But for what it's worth that's not how I think things are gonna turn out."

"Ha! Since when are you an optimist?"

Sitting up, Jimmy gave Coop a tender gaze. "Ever since I saw you wake up. That's when I knew you'd be okay. Especially after…" Jimmy trailed off.

"After what, Jimmy?"

Jimmy took a deep, steadying breath. "Especially after that damn doc that came in to see us told us you were pretty much gone."

Coop's heart gave a hard skip in his chest. "What?"

Jimmy sniffed and bit his tongue to keep his eyes from going moist. "That's right. He told us there was pretty much no hope at all. What do you think that did to me? To your mom?"

Coop shuddered at thinking of Elizabeth being told another son was headed for the cemetery. "I'm sorry, Jimmy."

Jimmy's eyes went wide. "What the hell have _you_ got to be sorry for? If I'd kept my senses and just gone out with you like I was supposed to none of this would've happened!"

Coop began to pick at the skin on his thumb. "You don't know that, Jimmy. It you'd been with me, it could've just as easily been you that got shot!"

"But if I'd been with you would've had a chance!"

Coop sighed. "It's possible, I gotta give you that. But look at it this way: maybe if I'd done what _I_ was supposed to and waited for back-up I'd have gotten out of it all okay. Or maybe not. It's happened and no amount of saying you or me should've done this or that is gonna change it!"

Flopping back onto the mattress, Jimmy began to play with Coop's tousled hair. "For once I'm gonna agree with you that you were right, Coop. It's best not to think about _anything._ But you've got my word about one thing. I'm never running out on you again. I don't think either of us could take that."

Coop took a moment to relish the tingling Jimmy's fingers were leaving on his scalp. "You'll stick around even if I'm a crippled and in a wheelchair for the rest of my life?"

"Yes," Jimmy whispered, giving the space above Coop's brow a soft kiss. "Even then."

* * *

Joe slowed his Harley as his apartment building came into view. He swore as his hair once more drifted into his line of vision.

"Joey!"

Groaning inwardly, Joe looked up and wasn't surprised to see his dad Patrick sitting on the balcony in a futile attempt to cool off from the oven that was their sweltering apartment. He cut the Harley's engine and hopped off the seat. "Just give me a sec, Dad!"

"No hurry, Joey!" Alex called, grabbing a seat beside Patrick and slipping his hand into Patrick's.

 _Fucking hell!_ Joe's eyes bulged and Officer Cooper's shot and bloodied body filled his vision before his tangled hair blurred the image away. Joe blinked hard, only for Coop's body to replaced by that of his father, lifeless eyes staring back at him as blood slowly run down from his mouth and into the street beneath his broken body.

Patrick stared at Joe's frozen form. "Joey! Are you coming up 'ere or what?!"

Spinning on his heel, Joe jumped back onto his motorcycle. As Patrick and Alex looked on in bewilderment, Joe revved up the engine and sped away. The wind quickly swept his hair back and Joe's face hardened as he disappeared into the sunset of a still summer evening.


	40. Shattered Conceptions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to say thanks for the comments and new subscriptions. My apologies for taking so long to update and I'm going to trying to remedy this situation by posting shorter, but more frequent chapters.

Driving aimlessly through the same streets of Brewrytown over and over, Joe tried to make himself focus on the road. Or the landscape. Or houses. Anything to stem the gory images that insisted on flooding into his head.

_Honk!_

By instinct Joe slammed on the brakes. The motorcycle coming to a sharp halt, Joe almost bit clean through his lower lip. The sickening taste of iron flooding into his mouth, his hands began to shake. His heart pounded so hard it was visible through the thin material of his t-shirt. With a colossal effort, he raised his head to see what he had almost hit.

An old man, maybe in his 60s, stared back at Joe in anger from his undamaged Chevrolet. "You fucking punk kids need to be more careful!" he roared, shaking a fist at the dazed teenager before putting the car back into gear and continuing his journey.

The waning evening sun nearly blinding him, Joe gripped his handlebars hard enough to leave an impression in the leather. Swallowing back the blood in his mouth, he cursed his stupidity. _I could've killed myself not to mention that other guy! What the fuck was I thinking?!_

His mouth then formed a grim line. _That's just the issue though, isn't it? You weren't thinking because—_ Joe tried to tell his mind to shut up as tried to stem the brutal memories he wanted to forget from entering his mind. It was late. He had to get home. But he had to figure out a way to pull himself together enough so his dad wouldn't sense how rattled he was.

 _Fuck._ A light breeze flipped Joe's neglected hair into his eyes. Whipping back the tangled locks, he put his motorcycle into gear and made a beeline for his neighbourhood's business district.

* * *

While most of Philadelphia had been swept up into the social upheaval raging across the United States, John Campbell's barber shop on the corner of Holmes Road and Parker Avenue in Brewerytown thus far seemed resistant to change. The same oily chairs, cheery advertising posters, and clientele still served and trickled in faithfully.

Sweeping the floor, John looked up when he heard the bell above the door tinkle. _Who on earth is coming in at this hour?_ Though the barber shop kept late hours, people seldom took advantage of them on weeknights.

His eyes falling on Joe, he had to stop himself from letting out a gasp of astonishment. "Joey Malone? I don't see you for weeks and now you show up bloody near closing time!"

So tired he was afraid of passing out, Joe looked at John with irritation. "Don't get started with me. I'm here now ain't I?"

"Now, now don't get all sore at me!" said John, grabbing a clean apron as Joe plonked himself onto one of the vinyl seats. "It was a mere observation is all!"

"Sorry," Joe mumbled in apology. "Been busy."

Beginning to reach for his trimmer, Joe's job entered John's memory. "Bloody hell! Nearly forgot that you're a bobby now! Or so I 'ere! I don't take word for fact until I 'ere it from the horse's mouth meself!"

Joe smirked. The slang of John's home country still coursed through his veins and was as much a part of the shop's tapestry as the cheesy dandruff advertisements. "Yeah, you've got it right. I'm a cop."

John returned his customer's smirk. "But you sure as hell don't look like one with that messy mop atop your head, lad!"

Joe shrugged as he let the barber put the apron around his torso. "With all that's been going on a haircut hasn't exactly been a top priority."

John shook his head. "When I was a lad, policemen had to look right and proper! I swear that the whole lot of you are going to end up looking like them punk hippie kids! Once upon a time boy society had standards-"

Joe's ear fell to silent to his barber's tirade as a new memory bobbed up to the surface.

* * *

_Having felt as constrained and as uncomfortable as he looked, Joe had tried in vain to roll up the long sleeves of the uniform shirt he had been given upon Academy graduation the week prior._

_Officer Holt, the twenty-year veteran tasked with carrying out Joe's tour of the station, almost laughed at the rookie's nervous discomfort before recalling his own induction days. "Give it up with those sleeves, kid. Them bastard things are so starched and stiff when they give 'em to ya that it's impossible to roll them up! So look, after I finish showing you our lot and where we park the patrol cars I'll show you where you can get a short-sleeved shirt."_

" _Thanks," Joe mumbled, unable to stop the relief from painting his face. Had he been forced to wear this horrible garment the whole of the week he was sure and certain he would have melted in the intense summer heat._

" _Don't mention it."_

_Entering the staff parking lot, Joe's eyes had popped when he spotted a shiny red T-bird. "Holy hell! Whose ride is that?"_

_Holt turned around. "What're you going on about, Malone?" He snorted when Joe pointed at the car in question. "Oh that thing. Coop's, I mean Officer Cooper's. His pride and joy that bucket of bolts is!" With a roll of his eyes, he glanced upon the motorcycle parked nearby. "And I hear that contraption over there is yours! You punk kids these days got your priorities all mixed up!"_

_Joe had reddened at letting his professional veneer shatter. "Well, you've got to admit that car is eye-catching. As for the bike, it was more, uh, economical for my d-for_ me _to buy than a car."_

* * *

Joe sighed. He wished like hell he could once again be a punk kid blissfully ignorant of life's ugly aspects.

Seeing the hardened look in Joe's features, John fell silent. "Look, Joey, I'm sorry for going off on ya."

Joe cast an indifferent look towards the barber. "Forget it."

"Anyway, what would you like done today? The usual?"

Glancing into the mirror in front of him, Joe sneered at the disheveled looking image staring back. "Shave it and gimme the once over."

John studied Joe's reflection. Though the boy was nineteen his beard was so light that the shave would entail little more than scraping lather off his face. "I can give you a shave of the beard, but are you sure about the shave of the head? I can't remember you ever asking for that. And you've let it grow so long! Why cut it all off now?"

Looking away, Joe grabbed a magazine from the counter in front of him and tried to feign interest in it. "It's summer, Mr. Campbell. I'll be cooler with a shaved head."

"How short do you want it?"

"Number one all over."

John blinked. That was the shortest possible setting without making his customer bald. "You're sure now? You've not been drafted have you?"

Joe turned a page in the magazine. "No! I just feel like a change is all."

Turning on the trimmer, John couldn't help but nod. "And a drastic change it will be. I can promise you that lad."

Staring at the same page for the duration of the haircut, Joe played little attention to the clumps of hair drifting onto the floor and onto his itching neck. Boyhood was now a shattered mess behind him. It seemed only fitting he started acting like a man by looking like one.

* * *

Jimmy stared up at the ceiling. Coop lay beside him, letting out the occasional light snore. It had caught Jimmy off guard when his partner had drifted off so easily. He could literally count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he had witnessed Coop escape into sleep unaided by alcohol and he hesitated to wake him.

Then he sighed. As wretched as it would be to end his time alone with his partner, he knew they had to dress and head to the living room some time soon. Despite his better judgment telling him that Coop getting shot was merely a horrible nightmare he couldn't entirely discount the possibility. Whatever irrational reality he and Coop had slid into he hoped that this Danny character was the Rosetta Stone that would provide him some answers.

Turning onto his side, Jimmy studied his partner intently. He tried to examine the whole situation from the calm, rational angle that had marked the whole of his and Coop's partnership. His friend's bare chest was unmarked and rose and fell without any painful hesitation. _If someone gets shot and doesn't go straight to Heaven or Hell then it's impossible he would be Wherever-the-Hell-We-Are and look fine. And there's no way in hell anyone who got shot like that could survive. So there you have it! All that crap I dreamed up is just that: bullshit!_

His light slumber coming to an end, Coop sensed someone staring at him even before his eyes opened. Rubbing away his grogginess he gave Jimmy a small smile. "See something you like?" He gave his chest a pat. "I will admit what's there _is_ choice!"

Jimmy flushed and rolled onto his back.

Coop smirked and gave Jimmy's shoulder a light punch. "Still can't take a joke, huh?"

Jimmy groaned. "It's always a joke with you, Coop. Ever think of cutting it out and taking things seriously just for once?"

Coop glared and gave the ceiling his undivided attention. "Forgive me for having a sense of humour to cope with all the shit that's happened to me the past few days!"

"And what shit would that be?"

Coop bolted into a sitting position. He had to quickly grab hold of the bedsheet to keep his fist from colliding with Jimmy's mouth. "You know damned well what I mean!"

Jimmy began to shiver and pulled the quilt up to his neck. _Fuck! Why the hell can't all this just be a bad dream?!_

Coop's face softened when he saw sheer torture flicker through his partner's face. It was easy to forget at times that what had happened to him was affecting Jimmy just as much. Recalling how many of his own thoughts often tormented him, he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle upon the realization Jimmy's suffering was probably greater than his at this particular moment in time. _Pop-Pop was always right about what a bitch irony is!_

Not bothering to disguise the irritation in his voice Jimmy asked, "What the hell is so funny now?"

Coop sighed. "Nothing." Even in this suspended reality the past continued to stalk him.

"Fuck! You always do this!"

"Do what?"

Jimmy rubbed his eyes. "Telling me nothing's wrong when something is! Why can't you just tell me shit straight up instead of making me dig for everything?"

Coop felt his body stiffen. "It's simple, Jimmy. There's certain things about me you're far better off not knowing." He fell onto his back with a rickety thud. "And that's the end of this conversation."

"No it ain't!" exclaimed Jimmy, sitting up and shooting a piercing glance. "You got any idea how hard it is for me to not know so much shit about you? Ever consider that maybe me knowing some of that stuff would let me think of some better way to help you out?"

"Maybe I don't want or need any help from you! I've gotten by just fine on my own, Jimmy! Why would I need your help now?"

Jimmy fell silent for a minute. It was a question he couldn't answer easily. "No, I guess you don't need my help, Coop. I mean, it's you we're talking about here. You stayed alive even when that damned doc said there was no chance of it happening! And there's nothing on earth that you're scared of so no I guess you don't need any help from me!"

Memories of what he now knew to be Heaven and his desperation to get away from it made Coop pause. _Fuck, I need your help Jimmy. More than you could ever know!_ "That's not fucking true at all!" he said at last, clenching his teeth. "I'm alive because I was afraid!"

Jimmy gave Coop a look of mystification. "I don't get it."

Recalling his trip into the night sky after being shot, Coop felt himself begin to tremble slightly. When Jimmy laid back down and slid his hand into his own he welcomed it. "That night I got shot, just after I finished talking on the radio with ya, I d-died."

Jimmy squeezed Coop's hand tight. "No you didn't! Don't think bullshit like that! You're still alive and I promise you that you're gonna be fine!"

"But I didn't die for long," Coop continued as if Jimmy had remained silent. "As soon as I got up there I bolted and kept struggling 'til I got back down." He turned his head to face his partner. "So there's the real story for ya. I'm alive because I'm nothing but a fucking coward!"

Jimmy ripped his hand out of Coop's and punched his arm. Hard. "Don't ever say that kind of bullshit to me again!"

"Just telling you the truth."

"But that crap you're saying ain't true! You can't make me believe a lie like that when you're the bravest guy I know!"

Coop turned his head until he was looking Jimmy straight in the eye. "There ain't nothing more cowardly than being too chickenshit to face final judgment for my sins."

"What're you talking about?"

Coop's gaze moved to the ceiling once more. "When I was in 'Nam, I ended up doing a lotta stuff I'm not proud of. So when I got up there I knew I was a condemned man. People like me who've got blood on their hands don't go to any heaven where there's angels and harps and all that jazz." He stopped speaking to let a shudder run through his body. "W-We go to Hell where we deserve to burn for all eternity."

Jimmy's first instinct was to give Coop a hard swat across the face and talk some sense into him before feeling compelled to say something else. After all, Coop had been through shit he couldn't even comprehend. "That ain't true at all," he said gently, giving his friend's cheek a light stroke. "You did what you had to do to get back here alive! You never wanted to do it! And I want you to know that I'm never gonna forgive myself for telling you that one time that the whole thing was fun for you and that you missed having a free pass to-"

Coop pressed his palm to Jimmy's mouth to keep the word "kill" from being uttered aloud. Feeling still lips, he replaced his hand. "I forgave you for that a long time ago. So quit worrying about it. Please."

"I can't help it."

Coop sighed. "I know you can't. That's because you're a good man, Jimmy. That's why you can't end up like me."

Jimmy's brows knitted together. "If I was more like you we'd have both been better off in the end," he admitted drily.

Coop shook his head. "No. If you were like me and let what happened haunt you you'd just end up fucked up and miserable. You don't deserve that."

Jimmy sighed, almost in disbelief at what he was hearing. "I did the worst thing I could've done to you. There's gotta be consequences for my actions."

"No."

"Why not? I fucked you over."

Coop swallowed. "Maybe you did, maybe you didn't. I'm still not sure on that one, but I forgive you either way. Anyways, at least for now, you're not gonna end up like me. Danny did what I asked him to do when he let you come over here so you wouldn't have all the shit that happened the other night replaying in your head over and over." He let a sad smile momentarily cross his face. "He was always a good friend that way. When me or Hank or anyone else really needed something from him Danny always figured out a way to get it done. And he still helped me out even after I gave him a hard time these past few days."

Both men lapsed into silence for several minutes before Jimmy asked, "Coop, how come you never told me about Danny?"

"Was nothing to tell."

"Sure ain't sounding like that!"

Coop let Jimmy's hand slide back into his. "Okay, Jimmy. I'll tell you the story straight if that's what you want. I've got no idea what you know about Danny, but he didn't just stumble out one morning and die because of bad luck. He was murdered. Beaten and left to die alone by those bastards in a filthy alley like he was nothing but trash!"

Jimmy's mouth went so dry he couldn't even swallow.

Coop had to pause until the waves of hurt quit crashing over him. "Anyways, Danny dying like he did and all the stuff that happened after it ended up being one of worst times of my life. So maybe you can get I've done all I can these past four years to walk away from it and almost convince myself it never happened?"

Jimmy bit his lip. Had he not just been guilty of the same offense? "I do. And I keep trying to do it even though you made it through. And hell, if I'd _really_ lost you I can't guarantee I wouldn't have been joining you at the cemetery sometime soon."

Coop made his body as rigid as possible to avoid shivering. He didn't want to die. How could he have ever wanted to? "Please, don't talk like that, Jimmy! You would've found a way to survive and keep on living!"

"I dunno about that."

"You would've. You've still got your kids and so much else to live for," said Coop. "It's when someone doesn't have a reason to get up in morning that they decide to say goodbye to life."

Jimmy took a moment to think his partner's last speech through. He'd been a policeman for five years, during which time he'd seen more than his share of innocent victims forced to say goodbye to life. What Coop was saying could never make any sense to him. "Hate to say I don't agree with the whole business of dying being _that_ cut and dry."

"Maybe not," Coop admitted. "I guess I'm talking from personal experience. Part of the reason I'm still alive at least is I still had shit to fight and live for. When my Pop-P-grandfather didn't have anything left that's when he quit living."

When Jimmy didn't respond, Coop continued, "My grandfather was a big reader. Lived for his books and going to the library or bookstore for new ones. He was a teacher in Ireland before that big rebellion broke out and he moved his family over here. He plan was to go to school here and go back to teaching once he got the right credentials. But he ended up doing factory work because there was no way he could've made a living and supported a family with the shit wage he would've been paid as a teacher. Books are what kept him sane around the dumbasses he worked with. When he got lung cancer and the docs told him he had two months he was still fighting four months on, even though he'd went gone blind and I had to start reading the books to him when I visited him at the hospital. But when he-" Coop trailed off.

"When he what?"

"When the cancer took over his brain so much that he couldn't even wake up to hear me read to him I knew the end was coming. He died the next day actually." Coop paused to catch his breath. "At least he didn't linger on too long as a living corpse."

Absently, Jimmy began to run his hand through Coop's hair. "I'm sorry, Coop."

Coop gave an indifferent shrug. "Sorry for what? You didn't do anything! I mean, it happens when people get old. They die."

"I know I did nothing wrong. It's just something I say to people when they lose somebody."

Coop sighed. "I know. And that's part of why I still think there's a lot of shit about me you're better off not knowing. What's the point of depressing and fucking us both up?"

Jimmy stopped playing with Coop's hair and forced him to make eye contact. "I don't ever wanna to hear you say that again! You're ain't fucked up! Or crazy! Or any of the other million things you say you are!"

Coop gave Jimmy a hard look. "That's one area I've got one-hundred percent confidence in!"

Jimmy sat up and crossed his arms. "Then tell me. Tell me how you're crazy and maybe I'll start seeing things from your point of view!"


	41. Chipping Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers for the kudos and subscriptions, means a lot!

Coop smirked. "I don't need to say anything when the proof's already in the pudding!"

"Right! I'm supposed to just nod my head like an idiot and agree that you're a basket case? Well, I'm telling you now that that ain't gonna happen!" exclaimed Jimmy, giving his partner a hard glare.

Coop clenched his jaw tight. With most things he was able to sway Jimmy to his point of view. Or, at the very least, make him drop the subject. _But clearly the topic of my sanity's a different kettle of fish for some reason. But then I guess loving a lunatic is not something anyone would sign on for!_

With a sigh, his eyes began to sweep the room. His face almost split with pleasure when his shattered alarm clock entered his field of vision. "There ya go, Jimmy. There's evidence of what I'm trying to get across to you right there!" said Coop triumphantly, gesturing towards his nightstand with his thumb.

Jimmy pulled himself into a sitting position. _What the hell is he babbling on about now?!_ he thought, trying to make sense of what the younger man was pointing at.

"So? You agree with me now or what?"

Jimmy shook his head fiercely. "Maybe if I even had some slight idea of what the hell it is I'm supposed to even be looking at!"

"That!" Coop bellowed, giving the broken glass of the clock's face a hard tap. "Dammit!" he yelled as pain from the sharp point invaded his fingertip. Balling up his good hand, he put the injured finger in his mouth, but withdrew it when no salty iron hit his tongue.

 _The hell?!_ Jimmy wondered when he saw Coop's clear skin. Ignoring his pounding heart, he reached for his partner's hand before a sharp shoulder slug stopped him cold.

"Leave it!"

Jimmy returned Coop's punch. He felt satisfaction upon seeing him wince. "I was only trying to make sure you were okay!"

Coop waved his blood free finger in front of his friend's face. "You satisfied now?"

"You don't have to be a prick about it!"

With a grunt Coop lapsed into sullen silence.

"Looks like you're fine, anyways," Jimmy mumbled. _But how does his finger have no gash? It makes no damned sense!_

Turning his head, Coop caught glance of Jimmy's bewildered expression. "I know what it is you're trying to do, Jimmy. You're trying to apply logic and make sense of everything going on here. But you might as well give up because I've tried to do the same thing for days now and I've had no luck whatsoever!"

Jimmy began to crack his knuckles. "Could be a good reason for that. Maybe it's because understanding or making sense of stuff ain't what's important right now."

"I guess that's as good a theory as any I've heard so far."

"But let's get back on track here! What the hell's that smashed clock of yours got to do with you being fucked up? I don't see the connection!"

Coop sighed. _These are the stories I hate to tell!_ "Remember the day Tommy got baptized?"

 _Uh, yeah! Kind of up there with first birthdays!_ "Yeah, of course I do! Even if was like almost any other day. You were late and pissed Eileen off again, as usual!"

Coop's heart froze, his emotion ebbing away. July 7, 1968. Another day on the calendar to Jimmy had easily been the worst day of his life. _Even worse than getting shot was!_ "Alright," said Coop, his voice toneless. "You recall the reason I was late too, then?"

Jimmy furrowed his brow. _I need a damn diary to keep track of all your excuses, Coop!_ "No. Not specifically anyway. Was it a brawl or a hangover that time?"

"You know damned well it wasn't either of those reasons!"

"Refresh my memory then!"

 _God!_ Coop shuddered, the brutal dream that had started the chain of events pricking at the outer ridge of his subconscious. "I told you all it was either 'cause my alarm broke or I got lost."

"Well, that last bit is total bullshit! You family's gone to that church longer than even I've been alive!"

"Exactly! I was late because that fucking alarm clock was broken!"

Jimmy let out a groan. "I'm smart enough to get that! What I don't understand is how that makes you fucked up!"

"Jimmy, how do you think that clock got broken in the first place?"

The older man weighed various scenarios in his mind before replying, "You getting pissed about something for no good reason or Robin knocking it over are the most likely things that come to mind."

 _The answer's that simple, huh? I wish my life were that easy to figure out, Jimmy!_ "You want the truth?"

"Yes, the straight story without any shit thrown in to trip me up would be a nice change of pace!"

Coop gave Jimmy a cold glare. "I never try to trip you up so don't even accuse me of that kind of bullshit!"

"You do too! Instead of just telling me shit as it is you launch into all these other subjects so I lose sight of what it was we were talking about in the first place!"

Coop snorted. "Not my fault you're too slow to keep up with me!"

Jimmy's fist clenched, bracing for contact with Coop's nose. But Jimmy quickly gained control and restrained himself. _He's doing the same old bullshit and you almost fell for it again! Not this time!_ "Nice try, Coop. That BS ain't gonna work this time. You're supposed to be proving to me why you're crazy, not telling me why I'm stupid!" He gave the blanket a hard kick. "Maybe I ain't book smart like you are, but I get more than you give me credit for!"

Coop's eyes went blank. "What's the point of rehashing what I've already told you a zillion times?"

"Quit trying to avoid my question, dammit! Tell me how that stupid clock really got broken before I really lose my patience!" Jimmy yelled, his harsh words echoing through the small room.

His ears ringing, Coop gave them a fierce rub. It was rare for his partner to lose his cool and it always had an unhinging effect upon him after the fact. "I-I threw it against the wall t-there," Coop stammered. He pointed to the dent that still remained in the panelled wall and was an eyesore compared to the rest of the wood's uniformity.

Jimmy eyed the mark for a few moments before shifting focus towards his friend. "That ain't crazy! Or even all that unusual! I've seen you throw bottles and god-knows-what-else at walls so many times I couldn't even tell ya!"

The younger man sighed. _There's so much you're good at, Jimmy. But connecting the dots just ain't among your strong suits!_ "Well, the picture you've got assembled in your head's wrong. This was one time I wasn't pissed off for no reason or drunk. I was having a bad dream and the damned alarm went off right in the middle of it. I-I guess I thought it was a bomb or something before I woke up completely and the result is what you see!"

 _Hell!_ thought Jimmy, making himself rigid. _I'd sell my soul to Satan himself if it meant those dreams would stop and you could just sleep in peace, Coop!_ He put his hand on Coop's shoulder, doing his best to stop its almost imperceptible tremble. "What happened in that dream?"

"I don't even really remember now! I can tell you it was a bad one though!"

Jimmy sighed. "Are _any_ of them good ones, Coop?"

Absently, Coop let his hands strangle his quilt. "No. But this is _me_ we're talking about here! I don't care what you try to tell yourself, Jimmy, but the cold hard truth is I'm murderer, no matter what way you look at it. That alone makes me fucked in the head. Guys like me don't get nice dreams or even deserve them for that matter!"

"No you're not! You didn't do any of that shit by choice! And you're not crazy! I swear I'm gonna punch you in the mouth if you say that to me one more time!"

Coop sat up. Hunching forward, he gave his broad shoulders a careless shrug. "I'm telling you what you keep saying you want to know and then you try to bite my head off! I just can't win with you!"

 _Wait a sec! I ain't trying to do that!_ "Ragging on you ain't what I'm trying to do! It's just I can't stand to hear all this bullshit you're spouting off about yourself!"

Laying back down, Coop let his face harden in the time to the thud his mattress let out. "What I'm saying to you know is the good to honest truth!"

"No it ain't! The only thing I'll say is fucked up is the way you're thinking. _You_ ain't crazy and you ain't gonna convince me otherwise!"

"Which is what we've been debating for, what, twenty minutes now or so? At least you're coming around to my view of things!"

Jimmy sat up quickly. With effort, he made his face rather than let his exasperation paint it. "Quit trying to twist my words around! The only thing I find messed up is the untrue shit you keep repeating. No matter what you say or do at this point I ain't admitting it's _you_ that's screwed up so you might as well quit trying, Coop!"

"Thought processes, physical deformities. Fucked up is fucked up when you really think about it. Normal people ain't like me."

 _Dammit, Coop!_ Choosing silence to be his better option, Jimmy gave his friend's cheek a light stroke.

Feeling warmth penetrate through the numbing, hard shell he had encased himself within, Coop withdrew from this gesture of familiarity.

Resting his arm alongside Coop's torso without touching it, Jimmy let out a loud sigh. "What's wrong?"

Coop shifted his body as far away from Jimmy as was possible without falling off the edge of the mattress. "I don't want to talk about any of this! And you should trust me when I tell you that you don't wanna hear any of it!"

For a moment Jimmy clenched his jaw so tight it shook. _You arrogant, stubborn prick! I think I know what I can and can't handle._ He rubbed his forehead. _I mean, I've never seen a war up close and personal, but five years of policing's made me relive things I'd do anything to forget!_ "You've got it wrong there, Coop!" He had to take a deep to chase away the night he had last uttered those words. "I fucked you over once and did the worst thing I've ever done by running out on you. I'll be damned that I'm gonna do that again, so you might as well be honest with me from now on!"

 _What?!_ Coop's mouth sneered and he gave his partner rough shove. "Fuck you, Jimmy! I've got my faults but I've never, ever lied to you!"

With a glare, Jimmy rubbed the part of his chest Coop had pounded. "Fine, maybe saying "be honest" was a poor choice of words on my part. You know what I meant! I just want you to say what you mean without so many irrelevant details!"

Coop sighed, the old hollowness making broad strides within. "It's best for you to not know any of it, Jimmy. It's easier for me to go it alone without you being exposed to any of this ugliness!"

Giving the side of Coop's head a whack, Jimmy crossed his arms. "I think I'm bright enough to decide for myself what I can and can't handle! You're just too afraid to tell me!"


	42. Jeremiah 29:11

"Me? Afraid? Bullshit!" Coop snarled. With a jerk, he swung a haymaker towards Jimmy's eye.

Swiftly sitting up, Jimmy managed to avoid his partner's clumsy lunge.

Coop's fist collided with air and he hit the mattress with a squeaky thud. Trying to raise himself with his arms, he swore when he found himself pinned beneath Jimmy's body. The young man struggled valiantly to free himself. Bu it was a futile effort when the force he was duelling was just as strong as he was and maintaining its grip on his body with the tenacity of a young wildcat. When both men were flushed red and slick with sweat, Coop's body refused to struggle any further.

 _The hell?!_ Though his arms shook with exhaustion, Jimmy forced himself to maintain his grip on his prey. "Alright, Coop," Jimmy gasped. "I'll think about getting off of ya if you can gimme your word that the rest of our chat will be civil without you trying to sucker punch me!"

His breath coming out in short, ragged gasps, the younger man found his verbal abilities AWOL.

His demand going unfulfilled, Jimmy pressed himself into Coop's torso all the harder. "I ain't getting off ya until you promise to do what I'm asking!"

"Okay, okay!" Coop sputtered. "I promise! Get the hell off me already! I can't breathe!"

Jimmy ripped himself off his friend in alarm. "Fuck! I didn't mean to hurt ya! You okay, Coop?"

Able to move freely, Coop's face broke into a broad grin. "Quit worrying yourself, Ma! I'm good! I just did what I had to do to light a fire under your ass!"

Flinging himself onto his back, Jimmy shot his partner a glare whilst remaining silent. _Damned prick fooled you again!_

The silent tension between the two men thickened to the point Coop could almost feel it lying in wait to pounce upon him. "Come on, Jimmy," he pleaded. "That last crack was just a joke. Nothing more, nothing less!"

Jimmy rubbed his temples. "Drop it, Coop! I don't got the patience to deal with your bullshit or whatever it is you wanna call it right now!"

 _Fuck! Can't there be_ something _, just one thing, I don't end up screwing up somehow?_ Letting out a sigh, Coop felt the familiar warnings of the familiar black brooding beginning to pound on the back door of his soul like a tenant refusing to heed an eviction order. It didn't matter how much he tried to force it away; melancholy always discovered where he was hiding.

 _Dammit!_ Coop's expression of utter and complete misery tugged at Jimmy's heart. Without even a word being spoken his partner had his ways of wrapping Jimmy around his little finger. _And_ fuck, _after bailing on him like I did—_ His temperament did a swift one eighty. He put his hand on his friend's shoulder and relief washed over him like a torrent when the gesture wasn't rebuffed.

Coop was the first to break the silence. "I don't mean to be an ass to you, Jimmy," he began, the warmth from his partner's touch begin to pierce through his moodiness like stubborn November sun. "It's just there's s-stuff you're honestly better off being in the dark about. And nothing you say to me is gonna change mind my mind about that!"

"Dammit, Coop!" growled Jimmy, giving his partner's shoulder a hard punch. He almost felt sick when the other man didn't even wince. _How the hell can he turn himself off like that?!_ "I already know you went through some bad shit and we both know you've had hard time dealing with it! And I'll admit right off I'll never fully get it. For whatever reason my number for the army came up during a better time so I didn't end up having to see what you did."

Coop stared at Jimmy intently, but said nothing in reply.

Jimmy formed his next words with the thoughtful caution that so many in his precinct associated with him. "But, dammit, keeping me in the dark about it all is doing neither of us any favours! Makes it fucking hard for me to know what to do for you!"

The Vietnam vet's expression became bitter and twisted. "I'm long beyond anyone's help, Jimmy," he said bluntly, every muscle in his body feeling like they were seizing. "Hell, even Danny and the crazy houses can't do much for me at this point."

"For the millionth time having a hard time dealing with all this sometimes doesn't make you crazy!"

Coop's smirk became all the harder. "Considering what my nights are like most of the time I beg to differ!"

Jimmy crossed his arms, giving Coop an equally hard glare. "If I was insane enough to agree with you I'd be branding my own dad crazy. And I'm gonna tell you now that I'll never do that!"

Coop shifted his gaze to the ceiling. As always it amazed him he still had no certainly about how many tiles were up there. "Which brings us back full circle, don't it? There's never going to be any sort of agreement struck between us on this subject, Jimmy. So why don't you just drop it?"

The older man took a deep breath, bracing himself for the expected fallout of his next statement. "So I'm gonna ask you this again: What the fuck is it you're so afraid to tell me?"

"There's nothing I'm afraid to tell ya!"

Jimmy let out a loud snort before he could cork it. _Not afraid? Yeah right!_ "If that's the honest to goodness truth then why are we still having this argument, Coop? I mean it's been, what, six or seven months since I found out about this? Don't you ever get tired of rehashing the same shit over and over?"

"And you finding out was because of a big fuck up on my part! You never were supposed to know!"

 _Sure don't feel that way. There's some reason I came into his house at the time he was talking to himself about it._ Jimmy paused as he tried to come up with something that would describe what he had long felt to be the threads of destiny at work. "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

 _What. The. Hell?!_ Coop sat bolt upright and leaned against his bed's headboard. "You got any idea of the shit your mouth just spewed, Jimmy? Fuck, I think you're spending way too much time with me! If I didn't know you better I'd swear you're becoming even more fucked up in the head than _I_ am!"

Jimmy struggled to rein his wits back together. He had no idea what in the world had compelled him to quote _that_ particular line of the Scripture that was supposedly the rulebook for all human life. _But maybe that whole thing applies to me saying it in the first place. There's a reason for it, a purpose. Maybe. I dunno._ "I meant to say maybe there's a reason I found out about it all. Like what happened was meant to be."

Angry lines swiftly formed across the other man's weary face. "You trying to tell me all the shit that's ever happened to me and good people like Danny is ordained? If so, fuck you, Jimmy! Danny didn't deserve what happened to him!"

"I wasn't saying that! Fuck, you never listen to what it is I'm really trying to tell you!"

Coop's face became limp, his smirk lifeless. "I _should've_ known right off the bat you didn't. After all, Danny was a good man. Kindest and bravest person I've ever met! How he died is the most fucked up thing I've experienced! As for me, well, I knew ever since I got back home I got off way too light for the stuff that I did. Getting shot was actually a relief, to tell you the truth. I figured I finally got what was coming to me and that'd I was gonna have some sort of resolution. Even if that resolution meant I was frying in Hell I was glad it was finally all over. But then—because I was a coward or Danny pulled some weird bullshit I'm still alive to contemplate this! I get a so called second chance and I'm too fucked up to even make good use of it! So quit bringing it up. Please!"

 _Fuck! This just ain't going the way it should! Where is your planning when I really need it, God?_ Jimmy felt every muscle in his body go rigid and tight with tension. "Look, Coop, we both know I ain't good at expressing exactly what it is I'm thinking. Words ain't my area of expertise; they're yours. I think I just meant that maybe I found out about it all so you don't have to go through it alone. Does that make sense to you?"

A long, icy shudder made its way down Coop's stiff spine. "No. It doesn't when it's best for both of us things between us on this subject remain the same, Jimmy."

 _Jesus Christ you stubborn prick!_ Jimmy thought. _Can't he realize I just want to—but maybe I've gotta go at him a different way. Make him quit thinking I feel sorry for him or that I'm badgering_ him. He gave his bare muscular shoulders an exasperated shrug. "Alright, Coop."

"Alright? What do you mean by alright?"

Jimmy gave his neck an absent pop. "I meant if it means that much to you to keep things as they are I'll keep things status quo. I'll quit bugging you about this. You're right, Coop; it's best you handle this in your own way without me interfering."

The younger man shook his head with disbelieving shock. "No! That ain't what you mean at all! You're just trying to trip me up or put me off somehow!"

Jimmy chuckled. _Hmm. This just might all work out in my favour!_ "What? _Me_ try to outfox _you_ , Coop? We both know damned well that I ain't savvy enough to pull something like that off! I like to just hear things as they are! It's finally clear to me that what I keep bugging you about is stuff you don't wanna talk about. And since that's what you want I'm just gonna give it all a rest. Just like you asked. Sound good to you or what? I'm sorry for being so slow on the uptake."

 _Fuck it, Jimmy!_ Coop rolled to his side. When it came to most things with his partner, it was seldom an issue to come up with his next move on the fly. But what Jimmy was saying had thrown him for a complete loop. _Of course I wanna tell it all to ya. More than you could_ ever _know!_ He had long since lost count in regards to the number of times the words had almost burst out of his mouth whilst spending time with Jimmy before his overactive brain had quickly restrained him from doing so. Going it alone and simply continuing to do what he knew how to do was what conditioned his each and every move and thought. "Alright, Jimmy. Fuck, after all this shit, what've I gotta lose? You're fucking right, okay? I keep my mouth shut because I _am_ afraid to tell you!"

Jimmy almost passed out from stunned surprise. _Three times!_ Only three times, and all in the past few days, were the only times Coop had admitted any sort of fear to him. The old state of affairs eroding as quickly as they were to the winds of change was extraordinary. To say the least. " _Why_ though? Why are you so scared? I mean, yes, I'm gonna say again that I'll never be able to fully understand all that's happened to you, Coop. But it ain't like I'm someone who hasn't seen dead people or horrible shit either. I mean, I've been a cop for five years and it doesn't bug me to admit that there's a lot of stuff I wish I'd never seen or knew existed."

Coop nodded, his mouth growing drier by the millisecond. "I-it a-ain't even that," he said in a croaky whisper.

 _Huh?_ Uncertain whether it was fatigue or his recent prolonged exposure to his own personalized version of Hell, Jimmy hesitated to speak. Too nervous to do anything that chanced shredding the fragile alliance he and his friend were forming.

Coop began to feel antsy and clenched his left fist in a hard ball in a vain effort to channel his nervous energy. "Please, Jimmy. Say something. Anything!"

"Can't you gimme a bit of time to process this, Coop? I mean, we've been partners for over a year now and this is the most shit I've ever gotten out of you! I can only think about so many things at once here!"

Coop sighed. "Like I said, I figure at this point I've already hit rock bottom and can only climb up. I got nothing to lose any more. There's really nothing to be afraid of anymore, is there?"

"That's definitely the most rational thing you've said to me since I got thrown into all this! Maybe what I'm about to say is too good to be true, but does this mean you're finally gonna tell me what's really being going on in that head of yours all this time?"

Coop's heart accelerated so quickly in speed he began to feel dizzy. Nausea stalked the back of his throat. "Yes! But before I do that, you gotta promise me something, Jimmy."

Feeling rather unwell himself at the sickening hue his friend's complexion had undergone, Jimmy quickly nodded his agreement as he grabbed the blond's limp wrist. "Anything! I hope you know by now that after fucking you over like I did that I promise to do anything and everything you ask me to do for ya!"

"You've gotta promise me that no matter how much what I'm gonna tell ya freaks you out that you won't run out on me again. I gotta have that assurance from you. Okay?"

"I promise, Coop. You got my word!" Jimmy almost fell off the bed from the force of relief Coop let out.

"It's not what you think," Coop began before a loud rustling brought his words to an abrupt halt.


	43. The Man With Nine Lives

An inward groan forced its way through Jimmy's insides when he sensed Coop's focus shift away from him. There were times he would swear on a stack of Bibles that his partner had the attention span of a gnat. _And God only knows how long it'll take me to get him back on track this time!_

Looking over the edge of the mattress, Coop grinned when he located the source of the sound that had captured his attention. Robin had crept out from under the bed and was now amusing himself with a ping-pong ball.

Balancing himself on his friend's shoulder, Jimmy strained his neck to see what the big attraction was. An annoyed grunt escaped from his mouth when he spotted the skinny cat. "You've gotta be kidding me! That bag of bones is here too?"

"Don't call him that!" said Coop in a low growl, giving the older man a hard elbow to the ribs.

Jimmy gave Coop a sharp poke to the chest in return. "Jesus Christ! Are you gonna get sore over every little remark I make?"

Giving an unintelligible mumble in reply, Coop leaned over and scooped Robin up with one arm. Doing his best to ignore Jimmy, he rolled onto his back and rested the cat on his chest. Some of his tension began to melt in time to the purr Robin was beginning to emit.

 _What the hell?!_ Having been uncertain at what sort of fallout to expect, Jimmy had shifted away from his partner. To now see the other man mellowing so quickly was for certain one of the more memorable sights he had witnessed in the year they had been together. He couldn't help but shake his head in stunned bewilderment. "I give up. There's no way in hell I'm ever gonna get just what it is with you and that damned cat!"

Coop shot his trademark smirk in reply. "Well, I was gonna tell you to go get a pet so you've got something warm to cuddle up with at night so that maybe you could get where it is I'm coming from. But I figured it'd best I don't say anything on that subject when we both know I'm the best man for the job!"

"Dammit, Coop! For just once in your life cut out the jokes! And quit trying to change the subject. I promise you've got my word that I'll never leave you high and dry again! So please, can we just get on with it?"

Coop raised his eyebrows at Jimmy's outburst. He winced as one of the cat's claws poked through the thin blanket separating their bodies. "I know my powers of recollection can sometimes be hazy, Jimmy, but I think it was _you_ that brought Robin up, not me!

Jimmy crossed his arms. "Forgive me for just asking what the hell he's doing here!"

Stumbling through the shattered debris of the events of the past several days, Coop tried to pinpoint the one marking Robin's arrival. _But dammit, Danny's pulled so many of those magic tricks on me how the hell am I supposed to keep track of everything?_ He jolted visibly when it hit him. _There's no way I could forget this one, though. Even after being the dick I was to him he still pulled some strings for me—_ "Danny brought him over here!"

"Huh? How?"

Coop rubbed his temples, hardly noticing Robin starting to knead him in earnest. "Considering how bizarre all this shit still is to me Jimmy I don't even wanna try and think of some sort of logical explanation!"

 _And given how much this is making my own head spin—"_ Alright," said Jimmy. "It ain't fair for me to ask you to explain something like _this._ Don't think that's fair after what's happened the past few days to us both." _Though anything I've gone through is nothing compared to the shit you've fought through, Coop!_ "I think it's alright for me to say though that all three of us have used up more than one of our nine lives to get to this point!" he said quietly, studying both pet and master for the opinions on his hypothesis.

 _Ha! That's putting it pretty mildly when it feels like I've already lived all nine of those lives!_ He abruptly clued into the joke's irony and Coop's expression grew grim as he began to stroke the purring feline.

 _Fuck!_ Seeing the familiar limp blank stare begin to invade his partner's eyes, Jimmy gave the younger man's shoulder a hard shake. "Coop? Buddy? You alright there?"

 _As good as I ever am._ With a blink, Coop came partially out of his daze. "Quit your worrying! I'm good. I promise."

"Liar."

"Fuck, Jimmy. I'm not lying!"

Jimmy sighed, rubbing his eyes. "We know that you _ain't_ fine. So even if you ain't meaning to you're lying to me by telling me you're fine when that clearly ain't true!"

Coop pondered Jimmy's accusation for a few moments. _It ain't like I try to BS him on purpose. There's just shit he's too stupid to realize he's better off not knowing!_ "I guess it goes back to me figuring you'd be better off not knowing certain shit," he said at last.

"No! We ain't going down that road again!" said Jimmy quietly, but firmly so he wouldn't chance scaring Robin and being scratched in the potential aftermath. "I meant it one-hundred-percent when I say you've got my word that I won't screw you over. No matter what nothing you tell me is gonna make me brand you a whackjob! So you might as well just make it easier on both of us and just get it over with." He paused to slow his rapid breathing. "Because I've gotta tell you Coop I'm sick of all these fucking secrets!"

"What do you mean by that?"

"We've been partners for over a year. And you're supposed to be the guy I know better than anyone else in the world. Ain't that right, Coop?"

Coop nodded his agreement in the direction of his fellow patrolman. "Yeah. I learned that on the battlefield. Out there all you can depend on is yourself and the man next to you. Only thing you can control in a place of unknowns. When you didn't know what to expect from another soldier is when bad shit really tended to happen."

Jimmy shivered. _Damn it all, I wish he'd_ _be more specific as to what that shit actually was._ "Yeah, we both learned that the fucking hard way. And pulling that bullshit on you is something I'll never forgive myself for. But dammit, I feel like I've been on the receiving end of it for so long! Thinking I really know shit all about the guy I sit by day in and day out ain't easy for me!"

Coop sighed. "I know it! It's just I don't even know what stuff to even begin telling ya!"

"Well you damned well better try!"

"Just not easy when it ain't something I really know how to do," Coop whispered. Wearily, he stroked Robin under the chin, the cat's favourite place to be rubbed.

 _And if I'd lived through shit like he did would I know what to say? Any idea of what to do tell people so they'd have even the smallest idea of what it was like? No. No I wouldn't!_ Gingerly, Jimmy began running his hand through Coop's tousled hair, hoping to keep him tethered to the present. And to the future he fervently hoped lay before them to enjoy.

 _God._ The blond grabbed hold of his friend's arm, feeling the same shaky salvation one grabbing a life preserver was apt to feel. A fragile thread that kept him anchored down and kept him spinning off into the void. That unknown black hole that still wreaked his body with dread if he pondered it for moment too long.

Jimmy nuzzled himself against his partner as best he was able. "You okay?"

"I'm go-" Coop began. "I'm hanging in there," he corrected. _Honesty being what you supposedly want so badly, Jimmy._

"I don't know how you did it, Coop. Getting through shit and keeping up the fight after the docs and all them other folks were willing to write you off as a hopeless case with no chance in fucking hell!"

Silence infiltrated the room, save for the rumbling from the cat's throat as regular as pounding surf continuing to crash onto a windswept, battered shore. "It's all I know how to do. I don't know how to give up."

"Hmm. Your mom said the exact same thing you know."

"Sounds like something she'd say. When'd you talk to her, anyways?"

"Pretty much constantly the past few days." Elizabeth's haggard, stricken face was a vision never far from his thoughts and it made him squirm with discomforting guilt. "Pretty much just her way of saying what we all know to be true about you, anyways: you're a stubborn bastard. And for once I mean that as a good thing."

Coop sighed. "Yeah. No one leads me do they."

"Never something I've seen since I've known you anyways."

"It was a statement, not a question."

"Does it matter?"

"No. Just me being a grammar Nazi for no good reason."

Jimmy couldn't help but let a rueful grin spread across his face. "You've got your way with words. I'll give ya that, Coop."

The unlikely poet forced his eyes to remain open; the strong fingers deftly massaging his scalp were powerfully soothing, almost too much so. "You can blame Pop-Pop — my grandfather -- for me being a wordsmith sometimes. Can't remember how old I was when it all began, but I pretty much can't recall a time when I was a little kid that we didn't end up sitting down with his books at some point."

"Sounds like he was a pretty important guy to ya."

"Yes. He was."

"And yet I've not heard a word about him from you 'til just today. Seems so strange."

"Story of my life." A sudden, sardonic chuckle broke through Coop's lips with enough force that Robin raised his head in time to his ears pricking.

"Okay, mind inviting me to the party and letting me know what's so funny?"

Coop bit his tongue in his effort to form a coherent explanation. "Just saying the word _life_ when I've really led a bunch of 'em. It should really be plural; lives instead of just life."

 _What's he on about now?_ The older man hoped his significant other wouldn't pickup on his confusion. Whilst he and Coop were on equal footing in regards to tangible assets such as brute strength, the half of the partnership with the greater mental agility was uncontested. Coop was by far the more intense one who realized in mere moments what it sometimes took Jimmy a minute or two to figure out.

Coop sighed. "You don't get what I mean. Do you?"

"No, not right of the bat," Jimmy admitted reluctantly. "But we both know what I'm like unless shit is clearly spelled out for me."

 _Okay, maybe you're not the deepest being God ever created, Jimmy. But you're a better guy and mean more to me than I think you'll ever realize!_ He certainly couldn't define his counterpart as swift in the traditional sense. _But he's astute._ Jimmy had a talent for understanding people and figuring out what actions were needed to get things resolved between them. So many times after Coop had done the physical enforcing of busts it had fallen to Jimmy to preform damage control or handle the so-called "finer details" of interrogations. The family was man was by far more calm and patient than the loose-cannoned cowboy. _Better things than being smart most of the time._ "You're not stupid ya know, Jimmy. And I've never thought that seriously. When I do say shit like that I'm just giving ya a hard time."

The other man's brow wrinkled as he gleaned the comment for sarcasm. It was clean though. Far as he could tell at least. "Thanks, Coop. I think."

"I really did mean it as a compliment! I guess to make it clearer what I meant was you're a patient guy, Jimmy. Which I certainly ain't. And considering how long you've put up with me and all of my bullshit is proof of that."

"I guess," Jimmy mumbled. "Still don't get what you mean by living a bunch of lives. I mean, I get the fact you've been through a lot of shit. Is that you meant?"

"Not quite."

"What then? What'd you really mean? Help me out here!"

"I dunno what got me thinking along those lines,' Coop began, trying to not let Robin's paw spreading under his neck tickle him. "I guess it was you mentioning the whole 'nine lives' thing. You remember saying that, right? Just a little big ago there?"

Jimmy nodded, hoping to alleviate his spinning head. He could almost feel his brain overheating. "Yeah. Figured you of all people would know the phrase 'a cat's got nine lives.' Robin notwithstanding; how he's not killed himself all the times he's gotten trapped in your closet and buried under an avalanche of shit is still one of the great mysteries of life."

Coop chuckled in reply. That cat was an undeniable walking disaster.

"Anyways, with all those books you've supposedly read, I'm sure it was tucked away in that great brain of yours somewheres."

"What? All those books in the den? I've not a read word in them; I just keep them around to impress all my visitors."

It was an effort to keep himself quiet and still. Aside from perhaps what Jimmy estimated to be a few dozen one night stands and the one chick— _Brenda?_ —that Coop had seen beyond one date he knew his partner's social life was consisted of mostly them hanging out together. Their line of work was not one that consisted of the typical Monday-Friday nine-to-five grind; rather it was mostly shifts that occurred all hours of the day without any logical or regular pattern. Needless to say most social events were hard to arrange with anyone else other than his fellow police officers. _Doesn't matter, anyways. Aside from the kids and the folks once-in-a-while no one else is really worth spending my time anyways._

"But yeah, I've heard that saying more than a few times," said Coop when his last comment was met with crickets. "I guess it applies to me somewhat the way it's meant to. I've gotten out of my share of sticky situations."

 _Sticky situations? Fuck, Coop! You survived the war. You go without sleep for days at a time and still somehow manage to function. You're a workaholic who worked himself to the bone and got borderline pneumonia just a few weeks back as a result. And you got shot not just once, but_ twice _and ended up losing tons of blood. And somehow didn't get brain damage from that. You kept talking to me even when you were dealing with pain that would probably knock me out for a year, even with all those pain medications. And you're still somehow fucking_ alive, _Coop!_ "I think that shit you just said Coop is the fucking understatement of the year!"

"Don't I know it! And you know what it is I really don't get, Jimmy?"

"What?"

"I don't even fucking deserve any of it!" he whispered bitterly, wrapping both arms around Robin's scrawny frame.

* * *

"Well, lad. I'd say we're finished."

Joe looked up from the magazine he'd dozed off in. _Think I'm a few decades too young to be in the market these people are after,_ he thought groggily, raising his head. He shivered as semi-cool air from the ancient fan John kept going in the shop all hours of the day hit his shaved head.

"A big change as I promised you," said John quickly, putting the clippers away. Without a word he began dusting the shorn clippings dusting the apron covering the boy's torso. "I'll bet the boys you work with are going to give you a fine time after this haircut."

"Maybe," the young officer replied carelessly, looking at himself in the mirror for the first time since the whole ordeal had begun. He felt his eyes bug out. The curly, unkempt longish hair was gone and cropped all over close to his skull. _I guess that's it. I'm a man now,_ he thought, pondering the last remnants of boyhood that'd been chopped away.

"You should've seen me sooner if this is what you wanted done, Joey. You let it go so long you got a stripe 'round your head like a skunk!"

"Yeah, yeah!"

"Yeah, yeah indeed!"

Joe stared at the mirror. _The bastard's got a point._ Hair had covered his forehead so long that a white strip of skin was evident until the abrupt start of his farmer's tan. _Almost as pale as Cooper looked when me and Jimmy—_

"Well, lad? Are you satisfied?" said John, bringing an abrupt end to Joe's flashback.

Joe stared at his round eyes. With the hair gone they looked enormous and made him in look more like a boy than ever. Yet, at the same time, the innocence was gone and he relished the new raw image he presented. "Love it."

"I'm glad of that, lad!" The barber paused for a moment. "Strangest bloody thing."

"What?"

"Don't you mean pardon?"

"Sorry, Mr. Campbell. I beg your pardon. What's this strange thing you're going out?"

"I've always thought you had the look of your father with that curly mop atop your head. With it gone I realize just how much it is you take after your mother. God rest her soul."

Joe shivered. The last image of his mother, etched into memory forever, was her gaunt and bald from the brutal, useless chemotherapy she undergone. "I don't see it."

"Trust me, Joey," replied John, beginning to sweep up the hair covering the tiled floor. "You act so much and now look so much like her it's like seeing a bloody ghost."

Joe shrugged. "I don't really remember all that well." _Or at least I wish I didn't so I wouldn't have to relive what happened to her all the damned time!_

The barber nodded. "Understandable. You were but a small lad when it all happened."

"Not that small."

"Trust me lad. Back in those days you were a short, chubby little thing. Now you've shot up like a beanpole."

Joe got up from his seat, reaching for his jacket and the backpack contain his dirty uniform and his gun. "If this overtime thing ever dies down I'm gonna try and put some weight on."

"By what I'm hearing on the radio and reading in the papers I don't think that's on the horizon, lad. Not with that other officer being shot and all."

The boy rubbed his eyes. "Don't remind me.'

"All the same, Joey, stay safe out there."

"I've got my gun on me pretty much all the time. Think I'm as safe as I'm gonna get right now, Mr. Campbell."

"And do you bloody know how to handle a firearm safely, lad?"

"Yes," said Joe quietly. "They taught us _that_ at the Academy at least." _And I'm thinking I'm gonna be putting it to some good use soon._ "Goodbye, Mr. Campbell. Time for me to be off home now. Dad worries enough for both him and my Uncle Alex!"

John smiled. "Was just thinking, Joey, you're really not a lad any more despite you looking so much as one. I think it's 'bout time you start calling me John like everyone else."

"If you agree to stop calling me Joey. I only let my dad call me that these days."

"It's a deal, la—I mean, Joe."

"Thanks. Appreciate it."

"Don't mention it."

* * *

"You're right, Coop."

"Am I?"

"Yeah," said Jimmy softly, letting his fingers drift down to his partner's neck. You don't deserve any of the shit's that's happened to you."

"Yes I did."

"Fuck! Don't say shit like that! If I wouldn't break one of Robin's bones I'd slugging you one right now!" said Jimmy in a low, angry voice.

"Guess when I told you he was my guard cat I was right then," replied Coop, giving Jimmy a smirk despite his internal misery.

"I'll never agree with you on that one!" declared Jimmy, sitting up. He studied Robin with the same intentness he did crime scenes. Despite the cat's appetite allegedly being on par with that of his master's, Jimmy could still almost make out each individual rib and backbone. "Hell, how he even manages to kill mice is one of the great mysteries of life that will never be answered!"

Coop glared, his heart really beginning to pound out of chest.

Sensing the imminent eruption, Robin jumped off Coop's chest and bolted under the bed.

"Yes, Jimmy! Robin's just a dumb fucking animal to you. But he means more than that to me, alright! Because if it weren't for him I wouldn't even fucking be here!" Coop bellowed. Unable to contain his rage, he gave the headboard a hard slap. He welcomed the pain that coursed through his hand and arm. It reminded him he was still alive.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Jimmy shot back, grabbing Coop's wrist in an effort to keep bones from being broken. The dynamic of Where-the-Hell-They-Were was so uncertain he was leaving nothing to chance.

"Let go of me!"

"Only if you promise to quit acting like a fucking nutjob!"

Coop's face became hard and he shot Jimmy a look of triumph. "At last we're in agreement then. You agree I'm crazy!"

"Fuck! Quit twisting my words around and changing the subject! You know damned well I meant getting yourself under control!" Jimmy growled, gripping Coop's wrist all the harder.

With a jerk, Coop twisted his arm out of Jimmy's grasp. "That hurt!"

"I don't care. If it means you stop screaming at me it's worth it."

"Hmm. I'll consider your request."

"I just don't get it," said Jimmy irritably, letting himself fall back onto the bed. "Why that damned cat is so important to you. What the hell is he good for besides keeping this place free of mice?"

 _Fuck._ It was certainly a fair question that Coop had anticipated coming up one day. He'd never been an animal lover until that skinny being had wandered into his backyard one muggy May evening and he got it was hard for Jimmy to even begin to understand. _But hell if he hadn't come along when he did—_ Coop had to take a deep, steadying breath in the effort to even recall the situation. Post-Vietnam. A grim, murky time where he might as well have been dead. Incapable of little else other than working, drinking himself into oblivion, and fucking. Aside, of course, from the nights where the war kept reactivating in his dreams like a literal demented alarm clock.

"Coop?" asked Jimmy uneasily when he saw Coop's eyes glaze over. He'd seen _that_ look numerous times in his own dad's eyes. The so-called thousand yard stare. The chilly calm usually possessed by the dead. "Burnt out and checked out is what they told me I looked like when they pulled me out of the trench that time, Jimmy," his dad had told him once he was old enough to hear the terrible details that had occurred in the once tranquil Normandy countryside. "But you've got to understand there's only so much a man can take in before you have to turn yourself off. If I'd kept thinking about the friends I was losing or the fatigue I was feeling I would've gone insane. I realized pretty quick that you can only see so many dead bodies before it stops affecting you." A sage lesson Jimmy had taken to heart after getting sick at his first murder scene and was one of the more memorable experiences of his police officer tenure he kept praying would one day be wiped from memory.

 _Dammit! Quit thinking of yourself! Coop's the important thing here!_ Jimmy gave his partner's shoulder a fierce shake, hoping against hope like that night two weeks ago it would wrangle him away from the demons he hoped his partner was finally about to share with him.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish to say thanks for the new subscriptions/kudos over the past year. Means a lot and I'll try not to let so much time pass between updates.
> 
> Also, fair warning that this chapter contains some politically incorrect terms in regards to mental illness. No offense meant; simply keeping consistent with the time the story takes place in.
> 
> And kudos to the incredibly talented Mr. Matthew Good for the chapter title. Go check the song out here: watch?v=PktLUZ6ataU

_May in Philadelphia is often considered a time of sweet reprieve; well past winter's final frosty fringes, yet not too far progressed into the balmy heat of summer._

_However, the spring of 1967 refused to yield to the well-worn seasonal patterns and seemed hell-bent on setting a new precedent on May 19, 1967._

_The stuffy small house barely registered on Coop's radar as he padded towards the kitchen. The air now piercing his skin was paradise after having spent most of the day holed up in a sweltering interrogation room questioning the two drug dealers he and his partner Jimmy had arrested the previous day. At least, Jimmy had been the one asking the questions while Coop had been ordered to merely observe and complete the subsequent reams of paperwork. Having only been on the job two weeks, he was still dismissed as the rookie-in-training and under strict orders to obey any command his partner gave him._

_His wrist still ached from doing the paperwork twice over until Jimmy had at last been satisfied the scrawled sheets contained no careless errors that could get their case thrown out on a technicality. While he'd complained bitterly throughout the process, Coop in the end grudgingly agreed accurate paperwork was important, even if it detracted from the far more exciting aspects of patrolling._

Yet another little tidbit Pop just happened to not mention _, he thought as he rooted around in the fridge for a cold drink. It seemed a strange irony to have paperwork annoy him so much; no so long ago, he'd even found amusement in churning out page after page of rambling nonsense until his number had been drawn and the war had put the brakes on all aspects of his previous life._

Fuck! _Jaw clenched tight, his mind began scrambling as to which method would put the past back in its grave: working out until his body collapsed from sheer exhaustion or tooling around with the engine of his 'new' T-Bird. The image of the shiny red monster almost brought a grin to his face. The graduation gift he'd bought himself was almost race worthy and his fingers itched to finish the final modifications._

Jesus! _He swept damp hair out of his eyes. In spite of changing out of his sweaty work clothes into a pair of old jogging shorts, perspiration still ran down his face. This certainly narrowed down his choices: try to cool off outside or lift weights in the comparable cool of the cellar until it felt like the walls would collapse on top of him. He shook his head at the latter, his choice swiftly certain._

* * *

_Folding chair set up and several cool beers in hand, Coop plopped himself onto the flimsy seat. The springs groaned in rusty agony beneath his weight, but held firm. He sighed with relief; for the moment, folding chairs were one item he could scratch off the list of stuff he still had to buy for his new home._

_Cracking open a beer, Coop began to chug down his liquid salvation. Can emptied and alcohol beginning to course through his veins, he prepped himself to wait. The time frame was seldom firm, but before long ignorant bliss would descend and envelope him._

_It was a fine line that separated the two states of nothingness in which he spent most of his time; however, the one induced by alcohol was by far preferred. Instead of being cognizant of the shadows he was trying to dodge, alcohol would for a time suspend reality and he could almost imagine the tunnel at the bright end of nowhere._

Yes. Finally! _Coop's face began to slacken. The alcohol was taking effect and blunting all perception. He leaned back into his chair and bolted down the remaining beers in quick succession. He'd only been home a few months, but his alcohol tolerance was already well beyond what he'd ever imagined possible._ Then again, shouldn't all of this shit be long behind me by this point?

_Pissed, he let the booze wash away his bitter brooding and render him docile. For a fleeting moment of time he could forget all the ways in which his life was wasting away._

_He shifted his gaze toward the sky. It was the ultimate embodiment of artistic perfection, an endless blue expense without even a feathery trace of cloud to mar the effect of infinity._ And once it might've meant something to me.

 _Aimlessly, he began crumbling a beer can. His supply was dwindling and he knew a trip to pick-up more would be swiftly forthcoming. Keeping his house well-stocked with alcohol was what his sanity hinged on._ At least it works for now. But for how long?

_Feeling entrapped within some sort of sticky inertia, Coop flung the beer can aside and began to do the one thing he tried to avoid at all costs: thinking. He wanted to smack himself for once again falling into this trap; thinking led to recollection, and remembering the things he had seen and done led to…_

_He shivered, gripped within a sickening realization. His effort to outrun the ghosts that stalked him was futile and he was certain of what the future held for him. The only question was what the end would look like: locked up in a nuthouse wasting away or snuffed out by his own hand? He had a sickening sense it would be the former when his finger still hadn't worked up the courage to pull the trigger._

And what was the point of surviving the war if it meant things ending up like this _? He got to his feet, remembering that he kept hidden in his bedroom a bottle of whiskey for times like this. Times where the usual anesthetic did nothing and a more potent drug was required to induce a blackout and silence his more twisted thoughts._

" _Mew."_

_His eyes scanning the yard for the unexpected noise, Coop took an involuntary step backward upon seeing the largest animal he'd ever laid his eyes on. He quickly regained his composure and moved to chase away the bastard before it uttered a pathetic squeak._

_He shook his head, his brain taking a few moments to reconcile what really stood a few feet away from him: a cat. At least, Coop thought it was a cat; the emaciated creature with matted fur that stood before him did little to match his Golden book image of a feline._

" _What do you want?" he mumbled irritably. He wasn't an animal person even in a good mood and he certainly didn't wish to make acquaintance with one now. "Go on! Go away!" he growled in a low voice._

_But the cat didn't flinch, instead sitting on its haunches and giving the towering man a steady stare._

" _You so hungry that it messing with your brains or something?" he asked, tempted to kick the mongrel away, but having a feeling he'd kill the animal if he did._

_The cat stayed still and looked up at the man hopefully._

_Poor little bastard, he thought, the emotion stirring within jolting him with such force he was almost knocked off balance. He couldn't remember the last he'd felt anything for anyone.  
_

_The cat didn't make a sound, but began weaving himself along the man's leg._

" _Dammit! Alright," said Coop. "I'll get you something to eat. But you'd better get out of here after that. You understand my meaning?"_

* * *

"Coop!" Jimmy boomed yet again, giving his partner's shoulder a hard shake.

"Huh?" the younger man asked, the image of his backyard fading away and his partner coming into full view.

 _Thank God he's come back to Earth._ "What the hell happened there?"

"What do you mean?" Coop asked, giving his head a shake.

"We were talking when all of a sudden you spaced out and wouldn't say anything to me!"

"Jimmy, I-" Coop trailed off.

 _Fuck._ "It's alright," he whispered. "You don't need to say anything right now. Just come here."

Instinctively, Coop let himself be guided down towards Jimmy's chest as they moved downward to the bed.

"That's it. Nice and easy," said Jimmy, rubbing his partner's back and hoping like hell the racing heartbeat and tense muscles beneath his fingertips would begin to relax.

* * *

Sarge was unsure just how long he'd been lingering by the elevator. _One hour? Two hours? What does it matter._ What was done was done and there was no changing it. The medical staff occasionally passing by were too wrapped up in their own tasks to take any notice of the disheveled, exhausted looking man.

Dr. Buchanan wandered out of his office, tossing aside an unused clipboard and feeling relieved. Just a couple more hours and it would be the end of his shift. He breathed an inward sigh. The day had been a long one chalk full of patient complications or those making no progress at all. But the policeman's progress heartened him. He had to keep reminding himself that it was too early to nail down a solid prognosis, but the young man still being alive with what seemed an intact mind was astonishing. Even if his hand in the affair people kept giving him credit for was at best tenuous.

He headed towards the elevator, hoping he'd be able to sneak off for a quick smoke break without being called to away to some new crisis when the sight of Sarge halted his journey. "Mr. Cooper?!"

"Huh?" replied the shattered man.

"I'm glad to see you've found your way back to us."

Sarge remained silent. _Who the hell is this guy?_ The doctor looked vaguely familiar to him but was hard to tease out from all the other ones he'd recently seen.

 _Poor bastard looks about ready to pass out._ "I'm Dr. Buchanan. I did your son's operation. I think we've spoken a couple times now."

"Oh. Right," he muttered. _That_ was why this doctor looked so familiar. He'd never forget him being the one telling him his son was essentially gone.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Sarge mumbled by reflex. "How's Coop doing?"

The doctor took a few moments to choose his words. "All things considered, he's doing really well. He's had periods of alertness throughout the day, which is very encouraging. We're giving him another blood transfusion now because some of his counts were low—" he paused when he saw anxiety cloud the other man's face. "Keep in mind Sean lost a lot of blood. It's going to take time for his body to replace what was lost. Until then, all we can do is keep him topped up as best we can."

"Is he awake?"

"Not right now. I gave him a sedative just a little while ago, which will probably knock him out for the night."

"I see."

"Your son's gone through a huge physical trauma, Mr. Cooper. The best thing for him right now is rest."

Sarge nodded in borderline agreement, some of the weights he'd been lugging around disintegrating. _He's still alive. He's been awake. Maybe it's not too late for me to make things right with him._

"I assume you'd like to see him?"

"I can?" he asked. As far as he could remember, hospitals had strict visiting hours that were followed like biblical law.

"Of course. Your wife and Father – uh-"

"Mack?"

"Yes, Father Mack, are in there with him," said the doctor, signaling for the other man to follow him.

Silently, Sarge trailed up the hallway with the doctor. His joints ached and his body was begging him to lie down.

The doctor stopped once they reached the nurses' station. "Sean's room is just across the hall there," he said with a quick point. "I've got some paperwork in my office to take care of, but I'll come back for you in a few minutes. I think we should sit down for a bit so I can give you a more comprehensive update of things. Is that alright with you?"

"I guess."

"Alright, see you then." The smoke break an impossible dream, the doctor disappeared into his office.

Bewildered, Sarge lingered outside the room. He was uncertain what was so difficult when he had his orders. But his body was a paralyzed mass of seized up muscle.

"I really think he's looking better. Don't you?"

Hearing his wife, he forced himself to the door and glanced into the room. Momentarily transfixed on the bag of bright red blood, he closed his eyes to force his stomach to quit doing circles.

The priest gave Coop a quick look; the man looked like he'd come out the losing end of a ten round boxing match. "A bit rough around the edges. But yes, I do think he's looking better," he offered Elizabeth.

She nodded, brushing hair off her son's forehead. The transfusion had pinkened Coop's cheeks and his freckles were less prominent.

Absently, the priest took advantage of the lull in conversation to reflect on things. It had been a long couple days and every ounce of him felt it; however, hope was rejuvenating. His eyes widened when he caught sight of Sarge. "Brogan?"

"Huh?" Sarge asked, feeling uneasy when his wife began shooting him a glare.

"So," she said crisply, "you finally decided to grace us with your presence."

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I was just—"

"At the station to see how things were going," she finished for him. She began to stand up, prepping to give her husband more of her wrath before she felt a force on her shoulder pull her downward.

"Elizabeth," said the priest, "I'm not sure it's the right time or place to bring that up."

"It never is though. Is it?" she countered.

"I know you're upset, but you must keep in mind—"

The voices faded to an inaudible mumble in Sarge's ears as his wife and priest continued their discussion. For the first time, he forced himself to look at his son for more than a few seconds. He felt sick at what he saw: two long tubes and a tangle of IV lines trailed from his son's body and what he could see of his son's chest was swathed in bandages, his right arm tightly immobilized. He was hooked up to an oxygen tank that hissed with creepy regularity. How someone could be so banged up yet still alive shook him to the core. This was _his_ fault. _Why'd I listen to Murphy? If I'd just left him and Jimmy alone—_

"Well, Brogan?"

"Huh?"

Elizabeth glared. "You disappear last night with no explanation and that's all you can say?"

Sarge rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it to happen. I headed over to the station to see how things were going with the investigation and I guess I lost track of things."

"No you didn't," she said bitterly, "you just proved once again what's most important to you: your job. Not me, not Sean—"

"Lizzie," Sarge pleaded, looking to Father Mack for guidance "That's not true."

"Of course it is!"

"Now, now! That's enough of that!" the priest broke in. "Such talk is going to get both of you nowhere." He paused to recapture his composure. "Focusing on Sean and praying for his recovery is what you should both be doing right now."

Abashed, the couple fell silent. Elizabeth gave her husband one more withering look before turning her back on him.

"Mr. Cooper?"

The group looked up to see Dr. Buchanan and he gave them an appraising glance.

"I hope this isn't a bad time for me to borrow him for a bit?"

"Not all, doctor. Actually, this is the perfect time," Elizabeth said before returning to her vigil.

Numb, Sarge followed the doctor into the hall, leaning against the wall once they were out of the others' earshot.

"Everything alright in there?"

"Yeah. We were just talking."

The doctor examined the other man more closely now that there was no time crunch. His face was drawn and haggard and smelt like he had been sleeping in a dumpster. "Have you had a chance to go home at all?"

"No."

"I know you probably don't want to, but maybe you should head home for a bit for some rest. We'll call you immediately if anything changes."

"I ain't doing that," Sarge mumbled. "This is where I need to be."

"I understand," said the doctor. A thought struck him. "Would you like a bit of time to go get cleaned up?"

"Cleaned up?"

"You know, a shower, maybe a shave."

"I already told you I'm staying here."

"You wouldn't have to leave the hospital," the doctor replied quickly. He pulled Sarge down the hall. "Look, we have a bathroom for the residents down the hall. I don't see any reason why you can't use it for a bit." He paused to think. "Look, I'll go grab Dr. Morley. He usually keeps a spare shirt and a razor in his locker. Would you like to borrow them?"

Stunned, Sarge nodded.

"Alright. Just wait here and give me a few minutes to get everything organized."

* * *

"I was just remembering something," said Coop.

"Mhmm?" Jimmy disentangled from his partner and gave him a puzzled stare.

"You asked me what happened."

"Yeah?"

"I don't really know what to tell you besides I was just remembering something."

"And what was that?"

"I dunno exactly," said Coop, picking at the skin on his fingers like an anxious old man.

 _Fuck. Not this crap again._ The older man clenched his jaw so tight it almost spasmed shut and sat up. Just when he'd thought he was getting somewhere with his partner he hit more roadblocks. "You afraid to tell me or something?"

"No."

"Liar."

 _How can I be lying when I don't even know what it is I'm supposed to be telling you?_ Coop shifted his focus to twisting the quilt between his sweaty palms. He was fed up with the flashbacks and the past being too stupid to remain in the grave it should be buried in. _I know the things I did were bad and that I deserve to be punished. But making me like those freaks we arrest is too much. Why can't you just let me be normal like I used to be? Even for a little while?_

"You'd better come up with something soon before I really lose my temper," Jimmy said testily.

It came to the younger man with a start. It was something that he'd been unable to articulate to himself, let alone anyone else. "Alright, Jimmy. I'll be straight with you and tell you what I'm thinking about. But," he admitted, feeling all his muscles tense up, "I'm afraid what'll happen if I do tell you."

"Told me what?" Jimmy asked, struggling valiantly to mask his irritation. His partner had to be more difficult to pry information out of than a gang member whom had sworn a blood oath of silence.

"Telling you just how fucked up I am."

"Fuck! Not this again! You're _not_ fucked up and nothing you say is gonna convince me otherwise! So quit thinking like that!"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I keep thinking about whether or not anything really separates me from those late night crazies we arrest."

"Late night crazies? What the hell are you talking about?" asked Jimmy, having no clue what his partner was going on about.

"You know, what you call the people we round up or throw in the drunk tank when we work night shifts. Especially on weekends. Don't you remember?"

"Oh." Jimmy turned his head until his sheepish expression had faded. _Should've known what he was getting at right off the bat!_ Many a time after a hopping mad late night shift had drawn to a close he'd remarked that the night had been one of "late night crazy action." He was also certain that, at some point, he'd referred to the folks that ranged from drunken bar patrons causing a ruckus after bad calls during Phillies or Flyers games to those whom wandered the streets barefoot as they incoherently mumbled to themselves as crazies. "Alright. I admit I said that. But it didn't refer to _you_! It was just a comment!"

"I know."

"Then why are you making a federal case out of it?"

"Because I don't know how you're gonna react once you figure out I'm not much different than those people."

Instinct told Jimmy to stroke his partner's cheek and remain silent as he tried to kiss away the pain, but logic wrestled it away. "Well, you ain't like those people in any way, shape, or form! So quit obsessing about it!"

Coop snorted. "Kind of hard to do that when I can't say to myself with absolute certainty I'm different from those crazies!"

Jimmy resisted the urge to give his friend a good hard whack to the head. His partner's obstinate refusal to let certain topics die was one of those things he both loved and hated. Had the events of the past two days never happened, he would've nodded his head in agreement or conceded the argument. However, these were not old times and his senses told him that this particular discussion needed to result in some sort of resolution. _But God only knows just what that is!_ "You _are_ different! For one thing, you've got a grip on reality and know what you're doing!"

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Well, whoever is?"

It was Coop's turn to feel confused. "What do you mean?"

The older man, trying to believe that life experience had afforded him wisdom, replied, "I don't think anyone ever knows for sure they're doing the right thing. All you can do is what you think is right in the moment."

Coop couldn't help but laugh at that. "Following my gut generally tends to lead to unfavourable results. You've said so yourself at least a million times!"

"That's because you never slow down to use your head!"

"I won't disagree with you there!"

"But anyways, back to what I was saying," said Jimmy, pausing to gather his thoughts. Eloquent on the spot emotional speeches were his partner's forte, not his. "No one's ever sure of everything. The best anyone can do is make sense of the situation as best they can."

"Even nutjobs like me?"

"I mean everyone! From those people we take off the street from me to you! We're all just trying to make sense of the world, whatever that world happens to be!" He paused and gave his partner's thigh a firm squeeze. "No matter how bizarre I think something might be, there's bound to be someone out there it makes complete and total sense to."

Coop took a minute to process the speech. It was a novel experience for Jimmy to say something that questioned his firmly entrenched beliefs. He felt more at ease when the older man laid back down alongside him and no longer loomed overhead. For the first time, he felt grateful that they remained in suspended reality while their real lives progressed without their awareness. "Like here," he whispered thoughtfully.

Jimmy had to grapple with his friend's words for a bit before the meaning became clear: both men now inhabited a convoluted existence and he still hadn't figured out how far and where the journey thus far had stranded them.

"It makes me wonder though…" Coop began before trailing off.

"Wonder what?"

"If no one's really crazy, just what do you call people like me?"

"My partner," he replied instantly, his hand wandering along his friend's arm.

Relief flooded through Coop. He wasn't sure why exactly, but something in the other man's tone had finally instilled in him that his partner was in their relationship for the duration. "What about guys like me who can't stop thinking about the past? No matter how hard they try to kid themselves that they've forgotten it all, don't feel it, and have moved on to a whole new life?"

"I'd say that's someone still just trying to make sense of all the stuff that happened to them."

"I didn't use to have this problem, though!"

"Wars change people. You really need to quit being so hard on yourself," Jimmy remarked.

"I get that. But when I used to have bad times I used to be able to just put it behind me."

 _Given what you've told me about your friend there I have a hard time believing that._ "Bad times?"

"Yeah. You know, Danny getting killed, quitting baseball, Mike-"

"Mike?!" Jimmy interjected. He wracked his brain, but "Mike" drew a blank in his internal filing cabinet. "Who's Mike?"

"I didn't say anything about any Mike!" Coop muttered through clenched teeth, his left hand involuntarily forming into a fist.

"You did too! I heard you clear as day, so don't lie and try to convince me otherwise!"

The younger man remained silent, his mind reeling. His brother's name had so seldom passed through his lips the past nineteen years it felt akin to having uttered a word in Chinese.

"Well, Coop?"

"What?"

"I'm waiting for an answer!"

"Just what do you expect me to say?"

"Giving me some idea who Mike is would be a great start!" He sat up and grunted with frustration. "I thought we were past all these secrets?!"

"We are."

"Obviously not if we're having this discussion again!"

"Fine! Mike's my brother, alright!" he barked, sitting up and giving his partner a hard glare.

"Huh?" When they'd first become partners, one of the first questions he'd asked of Coop was whether or not he had any brothers or sisters and he still distinctly remembered the answer had been a loud, hard denial. To be told the contrary dumbfounded him.

"You heard me!"

Jimmy rubbed his eyes. "But you told me you were an only child!"

The younger man continued his icy glare. "Because I am an only child! I didn't lie when I told you that!"

"But you can't be if you've got a brother!"

Coop felt the familiar numbness seize his body; however, the occasion caused him to welcome it. "Correction: I _did_ have a brother. But I don't now, so I told you the good to honest truth!"

"But once you've got a brother you always do!"

"Not if they die," he replied tonelessly, flopping back onto the bed.

Jimmy felt his stomach begin to clench. "Die?"

"Yeah," the other man replied flatly. He tightened his jaw to keep the memory and its associations out of his subconscious.

"How?" Jimmy asked before he could stop him himself. His partner's bitter, twisted expression ate at him.

 _Ha! You want me to tell you all about how I'm responsible for him being dead! Fat chance!_ "Not something I want to get into," he muttered. He almost jumped when Robin emerged from his hiding place and leapt onto his lap. The feline's uncanny ability to sense the downturns in his mood was downright creepy at times.

"Fair enough," the other man mumbled. He gave the cat a light pat before lying back down. "Looks like my competition's returned!" He flushed when his remark was met with silence. "You know I was just joking, right?"

"Yeah."

"Was just trying to lighten the mood after prodding you too much."

Coop managed a small smile. "It's okay. You didn't know."

"Just surprised me, I guess."

"I know. Mike's not one of those good memories me and my folks yap about over the holidays like a broken record. Best thing we've managed to come up with is to not talk about it at all and just pretend it never happened."

"I can understand why, even if I don't think it's the best strategy."

"It always worked before."

"Not the case anymore, though. Is it?" Jimmy asked, body prepping for a fist to fly at him. But he relaxed at remembering his secret weapon was around; though Robin annoyed him at times, he had to admit he had a way of mellowing his partner out. God only knew how many black eyes the cat had spared him from.

"No. Just saying there was a time I could bury shit like that. But I think you already get that things haven't been the same for me since I got home from 'Nam."

The older man could scarcely believe his ears. An admission of this magnitude from his partner was rarer than finding water in Death Valley. "I know."

"And that's the real reason I think I'm one crazy son of a bitch."

"Huh?" Jimmy took a deep breath to keep his patience. The circular conversations that went nowhere pissed him off more than anything else. "You're not crazy just because you have nightmares about it! That's normal!"

"It ain't even that."

"What then?"

Coop's fingers idly tickled Robin's chin. "Just gimme a minute here. I'm trying to figure out what to say so you'll really understand what I mean."

"Alright." He seized the opportunity to clear his head whilst trying to figure out whether or not this was another slight towards his intelligence.

"Okay. I'm ready."

"Then shoot."

"You've gotta understand that I wasn't in the best place before I got drafted. Was the worst few months of my life and that's no exaggeration."

"Okay," Jimmy replied, silently thanking God he wasn't in the same boat and saying goodbye to a lifeless corpse that had once been his friend.

"Besides the whole thing with Danny, the quitting baseball thing really ticked my folks off. Though Ma came around pretty quick and said she just wanted me to be happy. It also left me without direction. Being a professional pitcher was something I'd wanted ever since I was eight years old. So throwing another plan together and getting a job to pay for it distracted me. Helped me bury everything and move on with my life. So when I got drafted, I was really pissed off at first."

"So was I," Jimmy muttered, bitterly reflecting upon how his own life had ended up derailed for two years.

"What'd you say?"

 _Dammit, this about Coop, not you!_ "Nothing. Just continue with what you were saying."

"I was steamed," the younger man continued. "I'd made plans and all of a sudden I'm being told by the government they've got other things in mind for me. And knowing if I don't do what they say that all I've got to look forward to is jail or fleeing the country."

The older man remembered well the frosty December evening his friend had disclosed his original career plans. "I'd have felt the same."

Coop smirked. "Ended up being for the best that those plans got shelved for good. The whole being a teacher thing was nothing more than a pipe dream to begin with, so it's good it got nipped in the bud before I wasted any more of my life trying to actually do it!"

"How can you say that about something you didn't even end up doing?"

"Jimmy, we can have that conversation and argument some other time. Let's just say we both know I haven't got the patience required for that line of work."

"Fine. So after you got drafted what happened?"

"After I accepted I was heading to boot camp, I wasn't happy or anything. But I actually began to look forward to it. Even became excited if you want to know the real truth."

Jimmy stared at his friend, briefly questioning his friend's sanity for the first time. _"You_ looked forward to boot camp?!" Discipline and protocol had to be his partner's least favourite things.

Coop sighed, fighting the urge to begin biting his nails. "Look, I know it's probably hard for you to get when we both know how bullshit rules drive me nuts."

He considered his partner's words. "It is," Jimmy admitted, "because I can only get this picture in my head that you being forced to follow shit you don't agree with would make you miserable as hell. But that's the point of you explaining things to me finally, right? It's to make me understand. So, why don't we go back to the beginning and you take me through this step by step. Nice and easy, okay?"

"It's a deal! Where were we, exactly?"

"You telling me some crap you were looking forward to basic training!"

"I did look forward to it!"

"But why?"

"Because I wanted to test myself!" Coop bellowed, wincing guiltily when his skittish cat once again stole under the bed. "I wanted to prove to myself and everyone else that I had what it took to be a soldier!"

"Don't think there was ever any question of that!"

The younger man scowled. "I wish!"

"What's that supposed to mean!?"

"I told you my folks were pissed when I quit baseball. Pop especially."

"Yeah. So?"

Coop's face became twisted and contorted at the memory. "Long story short, he wasn't thrilled with my new plan either. Told me over and over I need to quit fooling around, get realistic about life, and get a career. Told me the best thing I could do was join the force."

"Which you obviously didn't do!"

The other man grinned momentarily. "Damned straight! I got a gig selling vacuum cleaners and started apartment hunting the very same day!"

"Vacuum cleaners?" Jimmy's voice scaled up.

"What's so strange about that?"

"Door-to-door sales to housewives and little old ladies just ain't something I can picture you doing!"

Coop glared. "Well, I _did_ do it and I had a great sales record, too!"

"I don't see what that's gotta do with-"

"I'm getting to that!"

"Then get on with it!" Jimmy snapped.

The younger man resisted the temptation to give his partner a hard punch. _Remember, he's just trying to understand. And you're not doing a very good job of helping him do that!_ "Anyways, when I told Pop for like the millionth time I wasn't signing up for the Academy he just said, "Fine.'"

"He gave in? Just like that?" he asked with disbelief. In all the time he'd known his partner, Sarge had been the only person that had struck Jimmy as a person his friend would yield to. Hearing the man had withdrawn from a fight with an equally stubborn foe didn't sit right in his head.

"He did. Though he tried to get the last word in."

"What'd he say?"

Coop balled his fists up. "He told me, "Fine." Said I didn't have the discipline or drive to make it on the force anyways and that it was good riddance he wasn't gonna waste any more time on it with me."

"He said _that_?!"

"Yeah," the other man mumbled, face curling up in distaste at the recollection.

"So what'd you say back?" Jimmy prompted, having an inking his partner hadn't let that remark just slide.

"Told him I'd prove him wrong someday."

"I'd say you did for sure!" remarked the older man. Ever since he and Coop had been partnered together, they'd had more drug busts and achieved more convictions than anyone else in the precinct.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure how I was gonna do that exactly, but I got my chance a lot sooner than I expected. I got my draft card maybe a month later and that changed things."

"I know."

"Ma didn't take it too well. You see, she lost her brother in Korea, and didn't want me to go. She's a smart lady though and realized pretty quick she had no say in it. Pop just told me if I thought the Academy would've been bad that the army was going to be even worse and that I'd never even get through basic."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it," said Jimmy. A father to say such a thing to his son struck him as callous, even when he considered that person was Sarge.

Coop almost busted out laughing and his face turned red at his struggle to keep it in. "He sure as hell meant it! You see Jimmy, there's something you've gotta understand about my folks."

"And what's that?"

"I love my folks," he began, trying to filter all recent events concerning Sarge out of the equation. "Ma's a great lady and we've never really had any problem getting along. We're different people, but we've always dug each other. Pop though is a different story; we don't see eye to eye on anything and this was no different. I told him he was 4Fed during the war and was in no position to comment about basic training!"

"What?! _Sarge_ didn't serve?!"

"Jimmy, I was born in '43, Mike in '44. Pop sure as hell wasn't off training somewhere or killing any Nazis if we showed up!"

"But didn't he try to sign up or get called up?" the older man asked _. Sarge is all about duty and honour._ He couldn't fathom anything to the contrary.

"Hey, he did try!" Coop snapped, family ties still tightly bound. "But he has a bad ear. Got an infection in it and lost a good chunk of his hearing just before we got attacked at Pearl Harbor. Needless to say, he got turned away almost as soon as he tried to enlist," he said, trying to remember what his grandfather had told him once in strict confidence. Sarge having been stuck at home during the war effort was one of those taboo subjects never discussed in his family. "But things worked out in the end. The force needed him because so many guys left to go fight and they were desperate. And by the time the other guys got back Pop'd gotten promoted, so he wasn't on the street enough for his hearing to be considered an issue."

"Okay," replied Jimmy, trying to keep the latest revelation straight in his head, "so I assume he didn't take that crack too well." His uncle had also gotten the dreaded 4F status and he'd been relegated to helping the war effort in a munitions factory. Even after twenty-five years the man was still bitter and guilt ridden that he hadn't gotten to serve.

"No," the younger man admitted. He squirmed with guilt that his quip had shot his father in the heart, even though that'd been exactly his intent at the time. "But the strange thing is he just glared at me and left the room. And he's never brought it up since then."

Jimmy remained silent, simply slipping his hand into his friend's.

"Anyways," Coop said, giving his partner's hand a tight squeeze, "I _did_ prove him wrong. When I passed basic and came home on leave before shipping out he actually told me he was proud of me. He'd never told me that before."

"I don't believe that for a second!" Jimmy scoffed. His partner was brave, daring, and talented in many ways. "What kind of dad wouldn't be proud to have a son like you?"

"Pop."

"That's bullshit!"

"Doesn't matter," Coop mumbled, ripping his hand away from Jimmy and crossing his arms. He gave his partner a hard glare. "That ain't what I'm supposed to be talking to you about, is it? I'm supposed to tell you why I'm fucked up. Right?"

"Which you've said you'd do about a dozen times now!" the older man yelled, a sharp crack appearing in the veneer of patience.

"Getting through boot camp was just preparation," said Coop mechanically, beginning a speech he'd rehearsed countless times in his head. "Getting through the war and getting home unscathed was the real test."

"Yeah. I get that," Jimmy mumbled. A harsh hardness had invaded his partner's face; it unnerved him.

"A lot happened when I was over there. I saw a lot of combat. I saw a lot of people get hurt. Saw a lot of people die. Some of that thanks to yours truly."

 _But you didn't have a choice!_ Wordlessly, he gripped his partner's hand, the unexpected coldness making him feel even more on edge.

"A man could go crazy if he tried to rationalize and justify it all," Coop whispered. "So I quit doing that early in the game. I realized the only way I'd escape with my soul intact was to turn it off." He shivered slightly. "It's amazing, really, how few dead bodies you need to see before it stops affecting you."

"I know."

"That's the problem, Jimmy. You don't."

"No, I've not seen that kind of thing on the scale you have," Jimmy admitted, trying to rub warmth back into his partner's palm. "But I've seen some bad shit over the years. And I get that the first dead body is the worst. That all the ones after that just don't hit you the same. That if you didn't turn the emotion off you'd lose it."

"But _you're_ able to turn yourself back on! Things go back to normal for you when you get home. You're still able to love your kids and enjoy everything else!"

"So?"

"What if you couldn't?" Coop asked, averting his eyes to the ceiling. "What if things didn't go back to the way they were supposed to? What if, no matter how hard you tried, you weren't capable of feeling anything? No sadness, no happiness, but nothing at all? Just a void. You still exist as a physical being, but anything that was inside is gone. You're just a soulless entity wandering around and going through the motions."

"You ain't!" Jimmy whispered. His partner was fiery, passionate, and reckless. Every word, every fibre of his being pulsated with feeling.

"I know you don't wanna believe it, but that's what things were like when I got back. I didn't feel anything, except for maybe a few moments here and there, at all. Not when I stepped off the plane and saw my folks for the first time in almost two years. Not when I promised Ma I'd never worry her like that again. Not even when I broke that promise by joining the force a couple weeks later-"

"Coop-"

"Let me finish!" Coop interjected. "Because I've got no idea why I'm telling ya any of this and doubt I'll ever bring any of it up again!"

"Alright. What else have you got to say?"

"Not sure," Coop mumbled. "What else is there to say? My first few months home were a big glob of nothing. My nights, or whatever time of the day it was I tried to sleep," he said in rueful reference to night shifts,"were hell because waking up from the nightmares was the only time I felt anything for more than a few seconds and what I did made me want to blow my brains out unless I could drink myself into a blackout pretty quick. If it hadn't been for work helping me keep together what little shit I had left, I just might've taken a drive to the middle of nowhere to end it." He frowned briefly, disgusted with what he had once contemplated. "Wouldn't have wanted you or Ma or anyone else to have found me after doing it. No one deserves to see the aftermath of something like that."

Jimmy felt like something had just grazed his heart. "Coop, please don't talk like that. After everything that's happened, that's something I can't take right now."

"I'm sorry," Coop whispered, wanting to pound himself for inflicting irreversible damage on yet another human being. "But I'm just being honest. You said you wanted to know all this stuff. I'm just telling it to ya."

"I do," said the older man. "It's j-just I never want to picture you like that or think that's about to happen. Never again."

"What? That I've kicked the bucket?" Coop asked bluntly.

"Yeah."

"Well you can quit worrying about that. Provided Danny's told me the truth about things, I'm not going anywhere except back down there with you. It's just I'm trying to get across to you that when I got home I began to think it would make little difference if I really ended up dead. I mean, what's the point to life if there's nothing about it to enjoy? No hobby or person or anything else that makes you feel something?" he asked, giving his partner an appraising stare.

"I dunno. You're putting me on the spot here."

"That's fine, because I don't know either. All that matters is I got some feeling back before it was too late and I did something stupid."

"How?"

Remembering the sticky May afternoon Robin had wandered into his life made Coop flush. "You're gonna think it's pathetic."

"Try me."


	45. The Physics of Life

"Okay."

"So?" Jimmy prompted after a few moments of silence elapsed.

"It happened last year," Coop began. "Was a hot day and you and me had worked a long shift. You were still training me then and I still couldn't seem to do anything to please you. So, when I got home, I decided to take it easy. Just relax in the backyard with a few beers."

"Okay." He wasn't sure why his partner lounging around at home after a long day would be so unusual, but decided to roll with it.

"Things weren't going so good for me then," Coop continued. "Wasn't so bad when I was working or doing other things 'cause that meant I was distracted. You can't think bad thoughts or dwell on shit you can't change if you're busy doing something."

"Um-hmm." Certain things about his partner were at last making sense to Jimmy: his unquenchable workaholism, his constant need to be moving, talking, or otherwise engaged with something.

"Was still fixing up the car then, so that's what'd I planned to do. But it was too hot and I ended up sitting around doing nothing. So that's when I, well, began thinking about things I shouldn't've."

"Like what?"

"It ain't important."

"Coop, you said you'd quit pulling that sort of BS on me! Just say what you mean!"

"Fine!" he snapped. "I was starting to have thoughts about the war and how it totally fucked me up!" He gave his friend a fierce stare. "Why do you think I drink so much?!"

"I-I d-dunno," Jimmy stammered, feeling like he'd just received another hard knock to the eye. "Because you like to get drunk, I guess."

Coop let out a loud laugh and took brief relish in his partner's obvious discomfort. It was clear Jimmy didn't realize what he was saying; however, yet again somehow, he'd stumbled upon the right answer. "Yes and no. Being drunk _is_ fun, but I never liked getting to the point where I blacked out 'cause that always meant I'd done something stupid that Danny would lecture me about on the bus the next day when I just wanted to try and sleep off the hangover."

 _Good to hear someone else in his life has sense!_ "Sounds like your friend's got a good head on his shoulders. You say and do stupid shit when you've had too much and that's why I keep telling you to cut back on it!"

"Easier said than done!"

"Whatever."

"Look, Jimmy, I know you don't agree with the way I do some things, but I handle shit the best way I know how!" Coop glared at his friend. "If it wasn't for the booze, I really would've gone crazy and that's no exaggeration. Blacking out gives me a break from it all. I mean, I try to avoid sleeping, but it's impossible to do all the time. At some point a man needs to sleep."

"Yeah," agreed Jimmy. Lack of sleep was one of the realities of being a cop and a man learned to deal with it. But without fail would come the inevitable crash where he'd ending up sleeping away most of a day to re-balance the ledger.

"And, sometimes, if I drink enough, I can just pass out and have no dreams at all. Or don't remember anything if I do. I can actually sleep through the night again like I used to."

 _A nightcap taken to the extreme._ "I'm sorry."

"It is what it is."

"So what happened last year? What changed things?"

Coop smirked. "This an interrogation or something?"

The older man groaned. "Coop, I've got a simple mind. That means I ask simple questions when you don't say what you mean."

"Well, maybe it's because I figure you won't believe the answer even if I just flat out told ya."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Well, there's something you've gotta understand first: I _tried_ to feel things again when I got home. Do stuff that used to make me feel good. When I first got back, I tried writing again. But nothing happened."

"What do you mean?"

Coop sighed. "When I say nothing happened, I mean exactly that. I sat at my desk, pen in my hand, and tried to write something. But nothing came out. Probably tried to do it for a good few hours before I realized it was pointless. Think that's when it sunk in that things were never gonna be the same and that I couldn't just pick up where I'd left off."

The other man didn't speak, but moved closer to his partner, trying to tether him to the present.

"So, I got into other things," Coop continued. "Bought weighs 'cause I wanted to stay in shape, worked on the car as much as I could, did a lot of fucking and tried to get a girlfriend in the bargain…" he trailed off when he saw Jimmy flush. "Look, I know what I just said ain't classy and is hard for you to get, but just because a guy's not married doesn't mean he's not got the same needs you do."

"I know."

"I needed to _try_ and be normal anyways. I know I say otherwise now, but I get why guys like you want to keep living a lie, Jimmy. It's a helluva lot easier than trying to admit the truth to yourself or suffer any repercussions."

"It ain't that simple, Coop!"

"Oh, I know. That's largely why I never got attached to anyone, though. Don't get me wrong, I took a crack at it with Brenda and a few other chicks in college. But I could never return back what they felt for me. Was never fully motivated to get into a relationship, so I guess that's why things really never went past a first date for me. Besides, I'm screwed up enough. Add being a homo into the equation, well, that ain't something any chick would willingly sign on for."

"You ain't screwed up!"

Sitting up, Coop gave his partner a cold, hard glare. "And neither are you!" He couldn't help but feel satisfaction at seeing the other man squirm. "We're not sick, cursed, or any of that other bullshit that you think!"

"T-this a-a'int a-about m-me!" Jimmy stammered, joining his partner upright and giving him an equally hard look.

"Well, maybe it should be! You can't sit there and tell me I'm fine when you don't even believe the shit you're spouting off!"

"Fuck!" the other man yelled, gripping the bedsheet hard to prevent a fist from going flying. "Why does everything have to be so black and white with you?!"

"Simple! Life's a lot easier that way!" Giving his partner's arm a hard slug, he flopped back onto the bed.

Jimmy returned his friend's punch before laying back down. "Like it or not, Coop, life ain't like physics. There ain't always gonna be a right or wrong answer." His partner remained silent and he grew uneasy as the seconds ticked by.

"That's one thing I miss about 'Nam."

"Huh?! What's that gotta do with anything we're talking about?"

"It does with everything actually!"

"Then you'd better say what you mean real quick," said Jimmy testily. Being in the dark and floundering for relevance was a close second on the list of things about these conversations that pissed him off.

Coop sighed inwardly. _Why does he always have to be slow on the uptake?_ "Just saying that when a man's a solider he knows his place in the grand scheme of things. He knows what's expected of him and who's on his side. Things are right or wrong and it's friend or foe." _Brought order to a world called catastrophe._

"I see," the other man replied. But he still felt lost and uncertain where things were heading.

"So, when I got home and realized things were different, I decided to go back to what worked. When you think about it, being a cop _should_ be black or white. Hell, when we were at the Academy, they drilled bullshit protocol into us and told us the Crimes Code was our Bible. So maybe you can understand now why all the politics piss me off; they complicate what should be an easy job!"

"It is what it is," Jimmy mumbled. He felt torn. On the one hand, his partner made complete sense. His fear about losing his job would be non-existent if he just had to follow a set of rules. _But that ain't how it works!_ "I don't disagree with you. But things just don't work like that."

"I know," the young man replied sourly. "Just saying it would be nice to know that things are either right or they're wrong!"

 _And what about the hell we're doing?!_ "Sorry. I don't get what else you expect me to say."

"I dunno either!"

Jimmy stared at the ceiling, hoping to be struck by inspiration. "I guess I'm just trying to make you understand that there are times you can't always play by the rules, Coop."

"Alright, give me an example then!"

 _Such as when it comes to love?_ But Jimmy bit his tongue. "Okay. How about you being alive? That's sure something the doc couldn't explain," he remarked drily.

The younger man shivered, his sense of mortality still too close for comfort. "I guess that counts. Just like what turned the lights back on for me."

"Which was?" Jimmy promoted, relived his partner had taken the bait and changed the topic of conversation.

"That's what so pathetic about it. Of all the things that it _should've_ been…busting scumbags; my folks; banging chicks…none of it did anything for me."

"So what then?"

"Robin."

"Huh?!"

"You heard me right," Coop replied almost inaudibly, his cheeks hot. "It was Robin that did it."

"Robin," Jimmy echoed dumbly.

"Yeah, happened just like I told you. Was sitting in the backyard on a hot day and was in a bad place mentally. Even a few beers couldn't shut the thoughts up, so I was heading into the house for some whiskey when he came into the yard and meowed at me."

Jimmy jumped when the cat, as if on cue, hopped onto the bed and took a spot between him and his partner.

Coop gave the cat a fond look and began petting him absently. "Well, I tried to tell him to get away, but for some reason he didn't. He looked up at me and bang! That's when it happened."

"When what happened?"

Coop averted his eyes to the ceiling. "I dunno exactly. I couldn't help but think poor bastard…and that's when I went to get him something to eat. He left after that, but ended up coming back the next night. It was the same thing a few times and he ended up moving in. What else can I say?"

"I dunno. I'm still confused about what you mean," Jimmy mumbled. He stared at the cat like an archeologist might study an ancient object, hoping to glean an answer.

"I knew you wouldn't understand."

The older man sighed. "Just tell me so I understand. That's why we're going through this nice and easy, right?"

"I guess."

"So?"

Coop fell silent, trying to find the words. "Before that moment, I'd written myself off. I figured if I didn't end things myself I was gonna end up locked up somewhere. And I know that's hard for you to hear, but that's what I really thought back then."

Jimmy nodded, his throat going dry. _Please, Coop. Please quit talking like that!_

"But Robin changed that. After months of not being able to give a damn about _anything,_ and I still don't know why this happened, but I _felt_ sorry for him. Maybe because he was so skinny and pathetic looking I couldn't help but feel anything else."

 _Can't see how that's changed much_ , Jimmy thought, eying the bony cat intently.

"So, I dunno if you can understand, but that's why he's important to me. He helped me remember what it was like to be human again and I worry I might forget how if anything ever happened to him."

"I get it," Jimmy whispered. "I know I tell you he's a pain in the ass, and I do mean that, but I've always gotten there's _something_ between you two and that it was good for you to have him around."

"Thanks," Coop mumbled. "That's also why I can handle the pain too, ya know."

"Pain?" Jimmy asked wearily.

"You asked back when we were down there why I wanted to just deal with the pain versus you getting the doc and the answer is because it helps me remember what it's like to feel something. I'm afraid that if I don't feel it I might end up back like how I was and I never want to go there again. I can't."

Wordlessly, Jimmy clutched his partner's hand, profusely thanking God Coop had elected to keep up the fight.

With a sigh, the younger man began rubbing his eyes. He felt utterly spent.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just feeling really tired."

"Me too," Jimmy admitted.

"Think I could do with some shuteye," said Coop, rolling to his side.

The older man felt like cold water had been thrown on his face. " _You_ want to go to sleep?"

"I guess there's a first time for everything."

"I think that's a great idea, actually," said Jimmy, pulling his partner towards him. "But what happens if we go to sleep here?"

"I dunno," Coop whispered, his body feeling heavy. "All I know is Danny told me I got a pass on the nightmares for a while and I'm gonna take him up on that right now."

 _Think I'll try that too._ With a sigh, Jimmy closed his eyes and gripped his friend tight as darkness filled his vision.

* * *

"Please," said Dr. Buchnan, motioning to the chair in front of his desk, "sit down."

Dazed, Sarge followed the doctor's order.

"Would you like some coffee, Mr. Cooper? It's fresh," the doctor said, eying the black liquid with distaste. "At least as fresh as it gets around here."

Sarge nodded reflexively. He wished the drink could've been whiskey. A few swigs of that burning liquid would've quelled his inner troubles for a bit. "Better than nothing."

The doctor poured two mugs and shoved the empty pot to one side. Silence descended and the ticking clock soon irritated him. "So…"

The other man took a sip of tepid coffee. "Best you get on with whatever it is you got to say, Doc."

"I suppose so." He gave the father an appraising stare. "Feel better now that you've had a chance to clean-up a bit?"

"Yeah. I do, actually," Sarge admitted. The shirt he was borrowing bagged over his belt and was too short in the sleeves, but clean and his body felt less grimy. _Amazing how a shave and shower can make a man forget things._

"Good. Anyways, I'm sure you would like me to bring you fully up to speed on all that's transpired with your son the past day or so."

"Please." Good God he needed some sort of hope things had truly turned around.

"I'm going to give everything to you straight. I told you last night I like to give families accurate information as I get it. It does no one any favours if I give you false hope or leave you unprepared for the worst. Not fair to you or me to speak BS."

"Alright," Sarge mumbled, steeling himself. _Just what the hell is he trying to tell me?_

"You've got to understand that when we first spoke Sean was in really rough shape." The doctor paused to take a sip of coffee. "Quite frankly, I had no medical explanation at the time as to how he got here alive after all that blood he lost. And, to be honest, I still don't have an answer for that."

The other man remained silent, the magnitude of his sins all the more evident. _What you're trying to say is Coop should be dead. And it'd all be thanks to me._

"And your son getting through surgery to a point where we could stabilize him is another thing I can't explain at this point." The doctor paused to push out thoughts of the long, grueling operation where it seemed blood would keep pouring out faster than they could put it back in. "And, to be honest, I figured we'd be discussing funeral arrangements or the results of an autopsy if anything at this point."

"In other words, you figured it was hopeless."

"If you want the truth, then yes. I was 99.9% certain of that at the time."

"If it was then why'd you even bother?"

The doctor almost dropped his cup. "Pardon me?"

 _Fuck._ Sarge had no idea why he'd asked _that._ "What I mean is, if you figured my son couldn't be saved, why'd you try to do just that?"

 _Good question and one I've asked myself thousands of times._ The doctor tugged at his mustache before replying, "What else could I do? Sean was still alive. Would've gone against everything I stand for if I didn't do everything I could for him."

"Doing your job in other words."

"In one sense, yes. But I also owed it to your son to do my damnedest when it was clear he was fighting to stay alive." The doctor paused to gather his thoughts. "You're a police officer as well, right?

"Yeah."

"And, while I have no idea as to the full scope of your line of work Mr. Cooper, I imagine you've had worked some difficult cases."

"You could say that."

"But, no matter how slim the odds were that you would solve it at some point, you continued working it," the doctor continued.

"Yeah. That's true."

"Figured you owed it to the victim or their family, right?"

Sarge nodded.

"Well, then maybe you can understand now why I kept trying. I owed it to your son and your family to do that."

Sarge averted his eyes. The doctor's remark hit closer to home than he wanted to admit.

"Anyways, I also must say I've never seen anything like your boy's tenacity."

"What?"

"Your son's a fighter, Mr. Cooper. I've never seen anything quite like it."

 _I know he is. He's s a man._ "Been like that since the day he was born."

"Good. It'll serve him well in the weeks ahead."

Sarge looked up. "We're talking long-term now?"

"Well, I can't be absolutely certain," the doctor began. "Medicine is not like physics, Mr. Cooper; there's no set formula or mathematical certainly as to how things will go."

"But you're hopeful. Right?" the other man pleaded.

"Yes. Where there's life there's hope."

"I guess I'm just wondering what kind of life Coop'll have after all this is over?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that. Sean has serious injuries and it's impossible to say how well he's going to recover."

Sarge let some of his festering worries surface. "Will he be a cripple?"

The doctor took a moment to compose his words. "I can't give any definites. What I can tell you is that he isn't paralyzed. His spine wasn't hit."

"What about his.." Sarge trailed off.

"Yes?"

He struggled to articulate a coherent question. "Is, well, Coop's mind there?" he asked, the small splinters of the waiting room returning to him. "You said he'd likely be, uh, damaged…"

"Yes, that was a huge possibility when I brought that up, but not anymore."

Sarge felt his burden alleviate slightly. "You're sure?"

"Yes," the doctor replied instantly. He eyed the other man. "Did you have any idea your son woke up last night?"

Sarge flushed. "Yeah. At least, I think someone at the station might've mentioned it to me."

 _So that's where he was._ "Alright. Yes, he did wake up for a bit last night and a few more times today. From what I've heard from my colleague and the little I've seen of these episodes I'm sure that he's cognitive," said the doctor. "What I mean is that your son's aware and able to understand things," he offered when he was greeted with a blank stare.

"How do you know though?"

"He's following commands, speaking—I'd say that is pretty solid proof. Mind you," the doctor cautioned before things could go on an unstoppable upward trajectory, "he's somewhat disoriented and confused. But please bear in mind that's completely normal given the medication we have Sean on and the shock he's been through."

"Will that get better?"

"Yes, as we wean the pain medication and he becomes more alert. Unfortunately, he was in quite a bit of pain this morning when he first woke up, so I had to increase his morphine drip."

"Because he needs to tell us what happened, Doc."

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

 _God._ "He was shot, doc," Sarge whispered.

"I know that."

"And we've gotta know who did this to him."

The doctor sighed. "I understand that, Mr. Cooper. And I get because you're also a cop and it's your son that you have a strong interest in the matter. I also know it's a big case. My staff today has probably fielded at least a dozen phone calls from different officers asking if they can come down and ask Sean some questions. But I'm afraid I can't allow that. At least not yet."

"Why not?"

"He's only just woken up and not fully alert yet. His condition is also still critical. He's in no shape for an interrogation."

Sarge wasn't sure how to feel about that. The investigation needed to move along. _But if McCree's exposed and they find out what went down…_ He shivered; the idea of the other officers finding another boogeyman to pin the deed on was a fallacy. Sooner or later, _he_ would have to deal with McCree, not the electric chair. _A cop's reputation is all he has…that's the very least I can do for him now._

"And from what Dr. Tomlinson told me last night your son doesn't even know what happened to him at this point."

Sarge straightened up in disbelief. "No one's told him?!"

"No, not yet. Frankly Mr. Cooper, your son's not been awake or alert long enough for us to even attempt that," the doctor explained. "Once he is and we're sure he is able to process things we'll do so. You have my word on that."

"I see."

"In the meantime, we're doing everything we can to help him get to that point."

"Is he still in any danger?"

"Yes. His condition is still delicate and could change at any time. We're still monitoring him closely for any complications, like infection. But we've not seen any indication of that or anything else," the doctor added when he saw the other man's brow furrow with worry.

"Guess I missed out on a lot when I wasn't here," Sarge commented aloud tonelessly.

"Well, you're here now. Best thing you can do is move forward."

"Pretty awful though, ain't it? Disappearing when I should've been here…"

"I take it you were at work then?"

Sarge nodded absently. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

"You said you were down at the station so, knowing your profession, I put two and two together."

Sarge scowled. "Yeah, you've got it right. Great man, aren't I? Taking off when I should've been down here. What kind of person does something like that?" he asked bitterly. Yet again, the force and his rage had taken priority when it had no business doing so.

"Mr. Cooper, though you might find this hard to believe, I get where you're coming from."

 _Fat chance!_ "You got kids, Doc?"

"Yes. In fact, I've got a boy of my own about your son's age."

"Well, let me ask you just one question: if your son was on his deathbed in a place like this, would you've been somewhere other than here?"

"Well, technically no. You see, I _did_ stay here when-"

"Told you so!"

"You might think differently if you actually let me finish," the doctor replied quietly, but firmly.

Abashed, Sarge fell silent.

"Not sure what you remember when we last spoke, but I mentioned my son, Barry, to you."

Sarge screwed up his face trying to flesh out that conversation. "Sorry. The past couple days are mostly one big blank."

"I understand."

"What about your boy?" Sarge asked, thankful to change the topic.

"Well, I told you my experience with Barry is why I'm forthright with people. My own colleagues were reluctant to give me and my wife the full state of affairs and I vowed to never let anyone else go through that. You see, Barry got really sick a few years ago with pneumonia. I won't go into extensive detail, but suffice to say it was a close call; he almost died."

"Oh. I'm sorry," the other man mumbled.

"It's all in the past. But I'm telling you about it so you know that your statement that a better man wouldn't choose work over being with his family in a situation like yours is crap. And I understand completely where you're coming from because that's exactly what I did," the doctor admitted, mopping his face with a soiled handkerchief.

"What?"

"My son was admitted here when he got sick. But I kept working the whole time he was here. Saw him maybe once or twice before things turned around. " He paused when Sarge raised his eyebrows in surprise. "It sounds awful and it's not something I'm proud of, but it's what I did at the time." He let out a long sigh. "Hearing how bad things were…it was like everything stopped until the terror kicked in. So I went back to work when I was paged because it was what I knew how to do. If I stopped doing it, like what I had a break or what not, it came back. Working kept that at bay for a while."

"It does." Sarge hung his head. He'd first made that intoxicating realization when Michael had died. He'd no clue how else to respond to the grief other than pulling the trigger on his revolver or finding some way to keep going for his family. Work and the structure it provided had been the easy answer.

"And I get how much you wish you hadn't done that and could just redo everything. But you can't. It's all in the past. All you can do is focus on now and move forward."

"I guess."

"It is. Like it or not, you can't change the past. But you're here _now_ so, if you have no further questions, I'll take you back to your family."

"Alright, Doc," Sarge mumbled, grimacing as he got to his sore feet. "And thank you for everything you've done." He studied the floor. "I don't think me and wife my wife will ever be able to thank you enough for all you did to save our son's life."

The doctor flushed. _Your praises don't belong to me, Mr. Cooper._ "Alright," he said, getting to his feet. "Just come with me."

* * *

Joe was unsure just how many times he'd aimlessly ridden around the block; however, the waning sun suggested he'd been at it a while.

 _Still can't go home._ He went to the side of the road and put his motorcycle into park. He didn't know what do or where to head next.

He glanced down the road. He was tempted to put the bike back into gear, bolt out of the city, and spend a few days alone somewhere in the mountains. _Might not be a bad idea to hang at camp for a bit, get some peace and quiet while I sort out all this shit in my head._ Joe's old school friend had a cabin with an easy-to-pick lock. He was also certain it would be empty. It would be easy to disappear for a few days on an adventure.

 _Or is it?_ The weight of adult responsibility gave him a sharp jolt. He wasn't a kid anymore. He no longer had the option to run away just because things. He had a job, bills, and a life rooting him in place. _Gotta stick around and deal with it all. The only question is how? What am I going to do?_

Joe sighed. No answer was forthcoming like it had been in the good old days of teenage cockiness. There was also no one he could mull things over with. _Unless I look up Murphy and—_ Screwing his face up, he quickly dismissed the notion. He almost laughed. Murphy'd told him to shut up and forget about what they'd heard in the alley. The other officer would want nothing to do with his twisted thoughts of justice.

He gave the handlebars a hard grip. _I just need to forget the whole thing so I can head home. What I really need is a good, stiff drink._ He looked around and felt relief at spotting a seedy bar nearby. Trying to look tough, he fished out his wallet and began rifling through it for his ID.

A cloud of stale smoke and sour whiskey almost made him nauseous when the door slammed shut behind him. Trying to get his bearings, Joe headed for the counter, hoping the busy bartender would serve him without giving him too much of a hard time.

"Fucking hell!" They letting babies like you into this place now, kid?"

Joe dropped his license onto the counter. He turned around to see Murphy smirking back at him.


	46. Running for Home

"Murph!"

"The one and only!" the other man acknowledged. His eyes widened when he noticed Joe's shaved head. "What the hell did you do to yourself?!"

Joe flushed. "Got a haircut is all." He looked around and, seeing no other free stools, took a reluctant seat beside his colleague.

"Hate to tell ya this kid, given the damage is done and all, but you need to get a new barber!" Murphy cackled.

"Shut up!"

"Ouch, I'm wounded!" Murphy continued to chuckle. "You sure are the Comeback Kid! I gotta give you that!"

Joe glared. _Just my luck. Of all the people I could've run into it had to be the station clown!_ "What're you doin' here, Murph?"

The older man raised his glass and shot the boy a contemptuous stare. "What does it look like?!"

Joe fought the temptation to spit wipe the arrogant smirk off Murphy's face. "Was just asking a question. Can't help but wonder how, out of every bar in the city you could've gone to, that you just happened to pick this one?"

"Was visiting my old man. He lives just 'round the corner and I felt like a drink after. That a crime?"

"No."

"Could be asking you the same thing," Murphy mumbled. "You do realize you've gotta be at least eighteen to be in here, right?"

Joe gritted his teeth, hoping like hell the busy bartender would put a swift end to this ordeal. "You know damned well I'm nineteen!"

The other man snickered. "Well, you sure don't look it!"

"Which you, and everyone else down at the station, has told me, what, a hundred times now?" Joe gave Murphy one last glare. "Anyways, think you could just shut up for a bit and leave me in peace?"

"Suit yourself." Shoving his empty glass to one side, Murphy began rooting around his shirt pocket for a cigarette. He began to feel more at ease once the smoke hit his lungs. _Nothing eases away tension like a good drink and smoke._

After what seemed like forever, the bartender at last spotted Joe. After a short argument and at last convinced the boy's ID was genuine, he asked what the order would be.

"I dunno," admitted Joe, pissed he'd let Murphy's buffoonery distract him. "What's the house special?"

"Look, kid," the bartender snarled, "it's a busy night and I don't have time to play games! Are you gonna order something or not?!"

"He'll have whatever's on tap, Jim!"

The bartender's eyes widened. "You know this punk, Owen?"

"Yeah and he's alright." He gave both men a condescending wink. "The kid just doesn't get out much!"

With a grunt, the bartender poured Joe a pint of dark ale and took his money without another word.

Joe studied his drink. "Just what did you order me?"

Murphy gave the drink a quick glance. "I dunno. Guinness probably. Usually the special they got going on here."

"So, why'd he give me such a hard time when I tried to order?"

Murphy snorted as he signaled for another drink. "Simple. You didn't do it right!"

Joe took a hesitant sip, pursing his lips together when the beer was far more bitter than he expected. "And just how should I do it next time so I don't make an ass of myself?"

"Well, for starters, when you come into a busy place like this, you should have some sorta idea of what you want to order!"

Joe shot his counterpart a sullen look. "Can I help it if I've never been in a bar before?" He instantly regretted that remark when the other man began snickering.

"You've _never_ been in a bar before?!"

"Shut up!"

"Hell, when I turned eighteen, I couldn't wait to go out and get pissed!" Continuing to laugh, Murphy went to make quick work of his whiskey sour.

 _Prick._ With a defiant glare, Joe took a swig and chugged down half his drink. "Well, I ain't you, Murph. Besides, I never had any reason to drink 'til tonight."

The older man stopped cold. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, kid?"

 _Fuck!_ Joe felt himself go pale. _You idiot! He told you to shut up about that!_ "Nothing. Just been a rough week is all." Memories he wanted no part of surfacing, he drained the remainder of his beer.

 _Poor bastard. His has been a baptism by fire._ He gave the kid a look of pity. "I hear ya there. A lot of shit's happened recently and it seems you lucked out to get it all your first week!"

"You can say that again!"

"Bit rough 'cause we're so short-staffed these days. My old man reckons it ain't been this bad since the war."

"The war?"

"Yeah. You know, World War II?"

"Oh. _That_ war."

Murphy smirked. "About a decade before your time, huh?"

"I ain't _that_ young!"

"Just a joke, kid." Murphy sighed and hoped his refill would come quick. "You need to learn how to take 'em."

"Just go back to whatever ever it was you were blabbing about," Joe mumbled, his body feeling hot as his heart began to vigorously pump the alcohol through his veins.

"My dad was also a cop. He retired a couple years back after twenty-five years. Anyways, he ended up leaving the force in '43 when he got called up. By the time he left, they were already fucked. Like now."

"I see." _Why the hell is he telling me all this crap?_

"So," Murphy continued," there's been a big recruitment drive for guys like you."

"I know." Joe squirmed on his stool, trying to think of an excuse to leave. _It's not that I hate Murph…_ In fact, quite the opposite was true; paired together to do their part in investigating Coop's shooting he'd learned a lot and found Murphy to be a diligent officer. _But working together is different than hanging out._ His dad had never been one to mix business with pleasure and it was a lifestyle he'd planned to emulate. _It all works better if everything and everyone just stays in their own little compartments._

"But a lot of the ones who somehow make it through the academy ain't much good," said Murphy, oblivious to the other man's discomfort. "I mean, you heard about Bon Boivin, right?"

"Who?"

"Christ, kid! The moron who drove into a fountain while Jimmy was trying to train him! The guy who didn't even last one shift!"

"Oh. Right," Joe mumbled. He _did_ remember now and the vague traces of a memory about a conversation he'd had with Jimmy teased him. _But it all seems the same after a wall. Same shit, different shift._ "Been a long few days. Didn't remember at first." _God._ The thoughts and impressions he wanted to lay fallow pushed to a head and it was all he could do to keep the levy from breaching.

 _A long few days is an understatement._ If he hadn't had to check-in on his father, he would've been home ages ago and plying himself with booze until sleep found him. _But that just couldn't happen tonight. Dad had to bring up all that shit about Cooper and doing stuff off the books…_ He shook his head to rouse himself, not yet drunk enough to head home and be alone with his thoughts. "Buy you another one, kid?"

"Excuse me?" _I didn't just hear what I think I did._

"You heard me right. What would you like?"

"Another of what I had, I guess," Joe replied before he could stop himself. The bartender had refilled his drink and taken Murphy's change by the time he realized he'd just signed on for more forced comradery. "Didn't take you for the generous type, Murph. Thanks, though."

"You got lucky. A few drinks always loosens up my wallet."

 _Your lips too, huh?_ The younger man began sipping his drink. Before this chance encounter, all time spent with Murphy had occurred mostly in the comfort of silence. "If I don't talk much, it's nothing against you," the other officer had told him. "I'm used to working alone and just getting the job done." Between that and being swamped with interrogations and paperwork, their shift together had passed by in a structured blur.

"So…you live around here?"

Joe came out of his reflection with a jolt. "Few blocks away. You?" he managed to ask.

"Up the street, yeah. I wanna get a better place, but the old man refuses to sell. And he'll never admit it, but he couldn't keep the place up and running if it weren't for me being around, so I'm stuck in this hellhole for now."

"You still live with your dad?"

"What?! Don't be stupid!" Murphy snapped, snuffing out his cigarette and quickly lighting another. "I've got my own place!"

Joe flinched; Murphy's joking alternated with periods where he seemed to get pissed off for no discernible reason. He took a bolt of liquid courage. "I don't see what you're so sore about. _I_ still live with my dad," he admitted. _Dammit! Why'd I let that one slip?_!

"That's different! You're still a kid! For a guy like me it's a whole other story!"

"I guess so." Awkwardness enveloping, Joe fell silent. He felt relieved when Murphy followed his lead to let the cheerful barroom banter get a word in edgewise.

 _Fuck._ The older man scowled when he realized his empty wallet had cut him off prematurely. "Out of money! And I could really use another drink, too!"

 _Yeah, you're already three sheets to the wind. One more drink can't do any harm._ "Want me to buy you another?"

"No."

Joe shrugged. "Just figured I'd try to return the favour."

"Don't worry. I'll hold you to it next time we do this!" Murphy declared.

 _Oh, shit! Sure hope he's the type of drunk that forgets everything._ Thanking his lucky stars his cue to exit had arrived, Joe hurriedly finished his drink. "Been great chatting Murph, but I've gotta go. Stinson said I've got an early start tomorrow."

 _Dammit!_ Until the rookie had chanced upon him, Murphy had figured he was well on his way to literally pissing Sarge and McCree out of his mind. But now… "Wait!" he said, brushing past tipsy teamsters to grab Joe in the doorway. "We need to talk."

Joe twisted out of the other officer's grip, shoving his way out onto the sidewalk. He groaned when Murphy straggled behind. "Murph, I gotta go! I'll see you tomorrow. We can discuss things then!"

 _Is he fucking crazy?!_ The whole thing would be a cinch to handle on his own if the kid wasn't bonded into it by circumstance. "It can't wait."

 _What the hell is he going on about?_ What?" Joe asked irritably, loud enough that a few passersby looked at the two men curiously before returning to their own affairs.

 _Fuck._ Feeling like an invisible enemy was making its way toward him, Murphy grabbed the younger man by the elbow, steering him into the alley behind the bar.

Joe's eyes bulged and his pulse bounded. _Hell._ This was _too_ familiar: the dingy bricks and the putrid smell of rotting garbage was too close a carbon copy of the alleyway across from the station where…

"Okay!" Murphy whispered, his words snapping the kid back into focus. "We're alone."

"No shit, Sherlock!" Joe replied in a low voice. "What the hell's going on here, Murph?! You're acting like a nut!"

 _Fuck._ Lucidity momentarily cleared Murphy's raging mind. "I'm sorry," he began. "It's just this can't wait."

Joe kicked aside a broken bottle and shoved his hands into his pockets. "What then? What's so important you practically jumped me?"

Murphy shivered, the head of day no longer intense enough to protect him from the dank. "It's just I can't get what happened out of my mind-"

"I got no clue what you're talking about!" Joe quickly interjected.

"Yes you do."

Joe shook his head, but it was clear neither man could continue to deny the giant mammoth at the forefront of their subconscious. "You told me to just forget about that and that I heard nothing!"

"Well, I was a lying bastard when I told ya that!" Murphy paused, suddenly cognizant they were still somewhere they could be overheard. "But we can't talk about it here!" he said quickly.

"W-where then?" Joe managed to get out.

"My place."

"Okay," said the younger man, yielding to the command of the senior officer.

"Alright," Murphy said, cursing inwardly that his voice was tremoring like a goddamned woman's. "It ain't far. Just up the road there."

* * *

"I'm heading off shift now, Mr. Cooper, but my colleague, Dr. Tomlinson will be here shortly. Do you remember her from the second time we chatted?"

"The blonde lady?" Sarge inquired, recalling only one broad amongst the several doctors he'd seen since the whole nightmare had begun.

Dr. Buchanan nodded. "Yes, that's her. She's very ex…" he trailed off when he saw anxiety cross the other man's face. "You've nothing to worry about. She's very experienced. One of the best doctors I've ever worked with and I'm not just saying that to put you at ease."

"Good to know."

"Trust me. Your son will be in good hands." The two men left the doctor's office, stopping at the counter of the nurse's station. "I've got to go now, but you can let your wife know Dr. Tomlinson should be checking in on things in the next little while."

"Alright, Doc. Have a good night."

"You too." The doctor paused before heading for the elevator. "Based on what I've observed so far, I'm sure you and your wife won't do so, but I do suggest you folks head home tonight for a break, Mr. Cooper."

"We can't."

"I understand. Try to at least get some sleep, though." He sighed as he pulled on his suit jacket. "I know the chairs in the room don't make that easy, but I'm afraid they're the best beds we can offer."

"It's fine. We'll manage."

"If you need anything…pillows, blankets, or what not, just ask one of the nurses."

"I will," Sarge mumbled. He hated to see the other man go. He couldn't remember the last time he'd managed to connect with anyone like they had. "Again," he said gruffly, "thanks for everything."

"Don't mention it. I'll see you, tomorrow. Alright?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then. Good night."

"Night, Doc."

As the doctor disappeared into the elevator, Sarge remained where he stood. The last two days had nearly decimated him and it was a mystery how he'd even managed to get to this point. He looked at the entrance to his son's hospital room and felt dread. He was done. He no longer had the resources to weather another fight with his wife or anything else going sideways. _Coop has to come back from this 100%. I can't accept nothing less…_

"Brogan?"

"What?" Confused at being abruptly pulled from his turmoil, he looked up to see Father Mack.

The priest put a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Came to see if you'd finished talking with the doctor."

"Yeah. We talked."

The priest took in Sarge's vast chance in appearance. "Did you go home for a bit then?"

"No."

"Looks like you've cleaned up a bit."

"Oh. The doc…he let me go somewhere for a quick shower and a shave. "Lent me this shirt, too."

"Oh, I see."

Sarge nodded. "He's a good man."

"I agree. How'd the conversation go?"

"Alright. I guess."

"A lot to take in I'm sure. You must keep in perspective that Sean is doing well, especially considering the magnitude of what happened to him."

 _All thanks to me. I promise you son, McCree will pay for what he did._ "I know. I just wish the doc could've given me a definite answer."

"As to what?"

"That Coop will be okay."

 _As do I._ The priest grabbed Sarge and guided him to two empty chairs. His joints creaked with relief when he sat down. "I understand this is a tremendous burden for you and Elizabeth to bear, Brogan. And I know how desperate you are to get some resolution as to how this will all play out, but the doctor can't possibly tell you what he doesn't know yet himself. It wouldn't be ethical to him."

Sarge sighed. "I know."

"You must find solace in what is unfolding at this very moment."

Sarge hung his head. "But just how do I do that, Father? Please, tell me how."

Father Mack raised his eyebrows. Brogan Cooper was not the type of parishioner to consult him for guidance, no matter how dire his circumstances. "The way any of us handles these type of things: taking it one day at a time and not giving into vices or temptation. No matter how strong those desires might be right now."

 _So easy for you to say! You have no clue what really happened or what I'm going through!_ But he hid his reaction well. "Thanks, Father."

The priest sighed. "I know my words are of little comfort to you, but you must…"

Sarge quickly tuned out as the other man continued to drone on. He glanced around. It seemed to be a quiet night, especially when he took into consideration this was the largest hospital in the city. The nurses were taking advantage of their idle time to chat, catch up, and do all the other things that they never seemed to be able to do during the day. _If this place wasn't what it was, you'd think there was nothing wrong, no families like ours trying like hell just to hang on while life continues to on for everyone else._

He sighed and ground those thoughts to a halt. Contemplating did no good; it only compounded what he couldn't change. _God, I wish I could be so I didn't have to feel like this._ His face curled into a hard frown. He'd done the unforgivable by betraying not only another cop, but his own son. Eternal damnation was little punishment if Coop came through this okay. _Please, God. He has to._

"…so remember, it is vital to use this time to reflect and take things moment by moment," the priest finished as he cleaned his glasses.

Sarge nodded, though he had no idea as to what he was agreeing with. "I know, Father. It's just I wish…"

"Yes?"

"It's just I'd hoped that doc could've given us more concrete news by now." He shoved his chair back against the wall. "I mean, it's been two days since Coop got shot and they still can't give us any sort of prognosis!"

 _I know how you feel._ "Brogan, I know it's frustrating when we all want resolution to this matter. But you must keep things in perspective. Not even two days ago we faced the prospect of a very different end when the doctor first met with us and didn't give us the news we'd been praying so hard for."

 _Bloody hell._ Sarge hung his head even lower. _That_ moment would never be forgotten, being told his son, for all intents and purposes, was gone. How all hope had vanished and been replaced with a ranting, raving lunatic who could only run as fast and hard as he could from it all.

"You see, God works on his own time," the priest continued, putting an arm around the other man's shoulder in an attempt to offer some sort of tangible comfort. "It was hard, but we persevered and hope was our result; we got good news about Sean and our burdens were lightened."

 _And I wasn't around to help Lizzie, Jimmy, or you._ "And I wasn't around for any of it," he mumbled. "Left you and Jimmy alone to take care of Lizzie alone in a place like this…" His wife's cold hard look came to mind and decked him. _No wonder she's hated me all these years! I was never around for her or Coop when they needed me…arresting that perp or solving that case was always more important than clocking out on time and running for home, to them…_

The priest sighed. "Grief and fear combined is a tricky beast, Brogan. It lowers your threshold and ability to resist Satan. But the important thing is you've found your way back to where you need to be." He glanced at watch and was surprised to see it read almost eight. "Perhaps we should be heading back inside," he suggested.

Sarge shook his head. "I'll wait out here. Lizzie doesn't want me in there, Father. Can't say I blame her either," he admitted drily.

"She's tired. She doesn't mean to say those things."

"Yes she does. And to be honest, if the shoe were on the other foot, that's just what I'd say to me too," said Sarge, surprised at what this new mood of comprehension was revealing to him.

Father Mack hesitated as he tried to come up with a soothing reply. "Your family has had more than its fair share of troubles and grief to bear over the years and I know this seems to be yet another blow, Brogan. And I would never tell you two to ever stop mourning for Michael. Losing a child, especially one so young, is one of the most difficult things to ever recover from. But you both need to focus on what is important: Sean. He's still alive and fighting and needs you to do the same for him.

"I know," Sarge whispered, feel like he had just been punched in the solar plexus.

The priest rose to his feet, his knees cracking painfully. "I'm going to say something along similar lines to Elizabeth. I know there will be much to discuss later, but this is neither the time or place."

Pulling himself upright, Sarge offered no protest. He was too whipped to come up with any counterattack.

Father Mack pulled the other man with him into the room. Leaving Sarge at the door, he went over to Elizabeth, interrupting her hunched vigil.

"Anything happen while we were gone?"

She shook her head. "No; he's still sleeping like the doctor said he would." She began to wring her hands and joined Father Mack upright "It's been a while since the doctor was in last…I hope that doesn't mean anything's wrong..."

"The doc's gone for the night, but said the other one, the lady, should be in soon," Sarge offered before realizing that he'd even opened his mouth.

She crossed her arms. "So, you actually stuck around long enough this time to inquire about our son's welfare. Must say I'm impressed you've managed to actually to do that for a change," she said coolly.

Sarge winced as if his wife had struck him. He shuffled over and grabbed a seat by the foot of the bed, the tension only punctuated by the hissing of the oxygen tank. "Yeah," he muttered.

"Elizabeth,now is not the best time for that," Father Mack began.

"It never is!"

"You're both tired and worn out. Now is not the time to argue."

"I'm only speaking the truth!"

"Now, now…"

"She's right, ya know," Sarge mumbled, loud and sudden enough for the others to cease their discussion. "So I don't get why you keeping shutting her down when I _should've_ been here all along. So what else can you expect her to say?"

Neither Elizabeth nor the priest knew how to reply to that and the room fell silent.

"I still think there will be time enough to discuss this later," the priest said finally, plopping into the seat beside Sarge. "We're all exhausted and our nerves our frayed. We mustn't tear each other apart."

 _Ha!_ She could think of a few choice things to say to that, but decided to hold back. Returning to her seat, she began clasping her son's limp hand once more.

An eruption averted, Sarge leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He willed sleep to come quickly and speed things up a few hours.

Relieved that husband and wife had somehow reached a momentary ceasefire, Father Mack joined Elizabeth in his own silent way.

* * *

Jimmy felt like he'd just completed a death march and his body screamed for rest. But his brain would have no part of it and refused to stop buzzing.

Beside him, Coop lay, for once, sound asleep and completely oblivious to everything. He hadn't stirred since the end of their intense conversation and his body felt limp and loose as if finally unchained from some boulder that had tried to drown him.

 _Just let him rest. Poor bastard needs it. God only knows how long it's been since he's really slept._ Jimmy knew he couldn't do the same. Coop had given him a lot to digest and it made his head hurt.

He sat up and gently disentangled himself from his partner, glad to see Robin would hold down the fort for a bit. He tried to remember where he'd left his clothes as he resolved to make a short trip to the kitchen to make a good, stiff drink that would shut his mind up for a while..

* * *

"Well, this is it," Murphy grumbled, pushing open the door of his cramped, hot apartment without ceremony.

As if in a trance, Joe followed the other officer, slamming the door shut behind him. He stopped when they reached the living room. Murphy collapsed immediately onto a chair and pulled out a cigarette.

Joe looked around; the place was an obvious bachelor pad with dishes and dirty laundry strewn about, but seemed comfortable enough. "Nice place," he mumbled, scuffing a shoe along the floor."

"Shut up!"

"Just making conversation."

"Well give it up, kid. We both know damned well I didn't bring you here 'cause I wanted to give you a tour of this dump!" The older an snuffed out his smoke and tossed it into an overflowing ashtray. "We both know what it is we've gotta talk about."

"I don't think I can, Murph. I should've been home hours ago. My dad's probably wondering where I am and worried sick besides," said Joe. _Course, home is the last place I can go now._

"Then call him!" Murphy snapped, pointing to a phone in the kitchen. "You be a good kid and do what you gotta do. But after that we get down to business, no more excuses!"


End file.
